Silver and Steele
by BannersAndMash
Summary: This was my first fanfic - AU, changed rating T. Ireland 9th Century. An 18 year old Anna is a relucant bride betrothed to an underhand merchant. Kristr is a Viking who has been cheated from a payment of silver. I had taken this off, so if you were a follower, there is nothing new here. PM me if you want an update! Thanks to Wattle, DreamsofValhala and Dragonlady 039
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The sun rose feebly in the sky, the first rays of spring warming the ground. Anna and Catherine had taken the opportunity to leave the rath, the excuse being to look for first tiny blossoms of the season, the real reason to converse away from the ears of Raymond of RathSteele.

Anna spread her cloak on the ground, and kicking off her shoes, stretched out and wiggled her toes in the grass, enjoying the sensation after a winter in thick woollen socks.

'You won't be doing that much longer Anna', Catherine grinned down at her friend.

Shading her eyes from the weak Spring sun she looked up at her best friend and foster sister. This year they would be eighteen summers old, ten of them spent as foster siblings. Before the fortnight was out Anna would be married to a merchant from Dubh Linn, ten years her senior.

Catherine would wed Joseph, Anna's brother, within three moons, when he returned from his own fosterage with Catherine's clan. Raymond of RathSteele had been sorry to see him leave; Joseph had been found nearly dead in a little coracle washed up on the shores of RathSteele when he could not have been more than five summers old. Raymond adopted the boy with the deep brown eyes, and hair as black as night. With Anna as his only natural child, Joseph became his son and heir.

''Tis a travesty, Catherine,' Anna grumbled. 'I may as well be in Orkney as be in Dubh Linn. 'Tis the end of the world.' Raymond had made the match when John MacHyde sailed north the previous Spring. Anna had thought him a peacock; his elaborately embroidered light cloak and mantle ridiculous in the bright cold Donegal Spring. But he had coin and connections and Raymond had agreed.

Catherine sighed in agreement. The MacHyde lands were four days away by boat, down the coast between the islands, and on the border of the Viking settlement of Dubh Linn. 'I know it seems so far now, but remember, as part of your marriage contract, MacHyde did agree that he would bring you to Donegal for the old festivals of Bealtaine and Samhain.'

She understood Anna's fear of leaving their home, but Catherine's own worries were different. She and Joseph had exchanged places, and he had been fostered by her own sire, chieftain of the neighbouring clan to the lands of RathSteele. As a sister she loved Joseph dearly but she was only the bride in this political match. Knowing her expected future from the time she was fourteen summers, Catherine had resigned herself to fate.

'It's not the same and you know it.' Anna repeated to herself softly, twirled her fingers in the grass and rolled onto her belly. Looking at Catherine staring up into the sky, Anna seemed to read her mind. 'It might not be a love match, but at least you get to stay in the land that you love, with the people that you love.' She brushed an escaped tendril of Catherine's long blonde hair off her cheek.

'But marrying a merchant will take you to all sorts of strange lands, with different tongues and people.' Catherine longed to hear the storytellers weave their fables of faraway lands. She wasn't entirely sure if they existed, but in her imagination it was heaven itself.

Anna paused, chewed her lip, rolled back onto her back so she too could enjoy the rare sight of the blue sky, '...he deals with the Viking in Dubh Linn...' There hadn't been a Viking raid in five summers, but the fear was still there, the imagination of sinister long ships on the horizon, preying on the fears of all who lived within a league of the coast.

'Is it not bad enough that I have to leave home, as a prize to ensure better trade with Donegal, as well as play hostess to heathens who have ransacked our shores?' Anna could not soothe the unease in her belly. Thinking of MacHyde during their one and only introduction, in his ornate garments, failing to hide his paunch and his overloud laugh made her cringe. She did not trust him, but could not say why.

Catherine looked across at Anna, and wiped the tear running down Anna's cheek. 'Sweetling, you know your father means the best for you. Think of that scriptorium and a library to rival Clonmacnoise he said he had. I would dearly love to see those illuminated manuscripts. It is said the monks worked on each one for years.' If his manuscripts looked anything like the man, they would be gaudy indeed and unpleasant on the eye. Anna pressed the heels of her palms against her eyelids, trying to block out the garish view of MacHyde.

Catherine sat up, pulled her knees to her breast and rested her chin on them. The pause in chatter did not last long. Sighing, she stood up, nudged Anna gently with her foot, hitched up her skirts and ran down to the stream. 'Last one in washes the linens for a sennight!'

From the oak trees south of the rath, two men were looking down at the antics of the girls below.

* * *

'Well, brother, is that her?' The blond man looked to his right. He had straight fair hair tied with a leather thong. He wasn't smiling now, his normal good natured face set in a frown.

'Ja. That is she.' MacHyde's betrothed He pulled off his helmet and ran his hand through his unruly hair.

'If you weren't quite so tall, little brother, that fine red hair of yours would make you appear an Irishman.'

'Ellrik, my hair is not the subject today.' He nodded towards the women 'That is what is important, and you gibbering on about hair as if you were one of those wenches. You'll be discussing silks from Byzantium next. Besides you know where I got my hair from, unlike the typical Norseman you are.'

Ellrik shrugged. 'I can see that the little brown haired one is comely, but her companion could warm my furs any day. What say you I bring her too?'

'You might be more clever than you appear, Ellrik, but if you take her, she is your responsibility.' The peacock MacHyde had cheated Kristr out of a piglet's weight in silver the previous Winter, and Kristr did not take lightly to this affront. Kristr had paid the scout, Johan Flynn, plenty of coin, and his report did not disappoint. Johan, sired by a Irish father with a Norse mother, and with a foot in each world had great skill in getting even the most secretive to reveal their deepest thoughts.

'Her name is Anna of RathSteele.' Ellrik raised an eyebrow. Kristr liked to be prepared, and today was no exception. He decided to test his fiery haired brother.

'And what is the name of that blonde beauty?'

'Catherine.' Kristr narrowed his eyes at Ellrik. He would not make this easy for him. He knew his good natured brother wanted to play, and ease the tension of their plans.

'And? Who is she to marry? Or is she to take the veil and hide in one of those Christian convents?' Kristr gritted his teeth at the mention of the faith.

'She is to marry Anna's brother, Joseph.' Ellrik saw Kristr's plans clearly. By taking both for ransom, Kristr would retrieve the silver owed to him, by the men of RathSteele father's purse or from MacHyde.

Kristr stared down at the women splashing in the stream. That tiny brown haired slip of a girl was too pretty and innocent to waste on the odious MacHyde.

Patting his shoulder, Ellrik said 'I know how important this is to you, brother. We have time to talk of that later. Now, let's see to our horses because they'll have a tiring ride back to the coast and our longship'

Starting on their walk through the woods towards the stream, Ellrik once again could not resist teasing his brother. How is your Gaelic? It's been over a year since you have been to Dubh Linn.' Ellrik finally smiled, his blue eyes twinkling, the creases around showing his good nature was displayed often.

'Better than you, Ellrik, and by the time the ransom comes, they will be speaking Norse. I have no time to dance attendance to women.'

* * *

Drying off their feet with Anna's cloak, the pair pulled on their socks and shoes again. 'That was refreshing. Don't the first outdoor bath of Spring, Anna?' Catherine shook out the damp cloak, and Anna shrugged. Another game of childhood ending.

'Come, let's go through the woods home, I want some willow to make a new basket for my stitching.' Linking arms, they headed to the woods.

'Let's stay to the outside of the woods, I'd not want to come across an angry boar.' From they were little girls, Raymond had lectured on the dangers of the woods without a chaperone. No amount of pleading to learn to defend herself had worked on her father. Once again, I'm nothing but property to marry off, she thought. No rights of my own, to be passed from one man as daughter to another as wife.

Shivering from their dip in the river, the cool green light of the woods didn't let many of the weak sun rays through. Keeping a brisk pace to try and get warm, Catherine and Anna didn't say much, and in the stillness, they heard a crack behind them. Boar! It had to be a boar, but Anna did not want stay around to hear its meanacing squeals of attack. A surge of panic fled through her as she and Catherine grabbed hands and started to run, aiming for the rath, but as they saw the welcoming blue skies again, they were stopped in their tracks by a giant blond man. Spinning on her heels Anna grabbed Catherine to run the other way, but locked eyes with another giant, this time with red hair and grey eyes blazing like Toledo steel. She gasped when she saw the leather bindings he was holding, and her stomach lurched. Frozen with fear, she could hear her blood rushing though her ears, and saw stars in her eyes.

She could hear Catherine sobbing, 'Anna, run! You must raise the alarm!'

'I don't think so, Anna,' the red haired giant said in Gaelic with enough of an accent for Anna to realise he was not of a rival clan.

'Vikings!' she finally found her voice screamed as loud as she could. 'Viki...' The words fell away as one calloused hand covered her mouth, and another pulled on her long nut-brown braid.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Anna struggled, kicking and flailing her arms. Panicked, she couldn't hear beyond the throbbing in her ears, and twisting her head with every ounce of strength she could muster, she managed to open her jaw and bit down as hard as she could. Hissing in outrage Kristr pulled harder on her braid, jerking her head back that she whimpered, silencing the scream building in her lungs. 'Try to bite me again wench, and you'll make the journey in a faint like your companion.'

He spun Anna around to see Catherine unconscious in the blond man's arms. She stifled a cry. The blond man spoke to her in halting Gaelic. 'She has only fainted. But if you don't want her and yourself to spend the rest of the journey in this condition I suggest that you obey my brother.' He laid Catherine on the ground, and bent his head over her face as if to check for breathing. Looking in horror at Catherine's ashen face Anna went limp; she fell to her knees, only her braid tethering her to her captor. Ellrik threw a piece of cloth to Kristr, and bending over he gagged her, and bound her hands with strip of leather.

Kneeling on the ground, rasping breaths not reaching her lungs, she watched as the beast casually picked up her damp cloak from the forest floor. He reached into the pouch at his waist, and, unscrolling a missive, stabbed the document through her cloak, and onto a tree.

'Don't you have pretty blue eyes, Anna? Does your betrothed see their beauty? ' Kristr said as he tugged on her wrists, her knees still threatening to give way. 'Come. My brother will take good care of Catherine. He is an honourable man.'

She stumbled behind him back through the woods. He moved swiftly, pulling on her bonds if she didn't move fast enough. She glanced behind and saw the grim-faced fair haired beast carrying Catherine as if she were a babe. Honourable? Catherine was unconscious at this man's hands. She blinked back tears, the sting blinding her to all but the thought of Catherine, blonde hair and arms swinging lifelessly. These barbarians need not see how scared she truly was. Her morning meal was churning in her stomach threatening to choke her, her shivering with cold forgotten as fear left her feeling fever faint but icy cold. How do they know their names? They had not strayed so far from the rath that the bells of St Aonghus would not be heard. Ships would have been sighted on the horizon. None of this was making sense to Anna, her mind racing only to be interrupted by a regular sharp jerk on her bonds.

A short distance though the dark constricting trees, beams of sunshine led to full sunlight, and a pair of horses, grazing on fresh leafy shoots. Anna watched as the blond gently placed Catherine over the saddle and mounted. He own abductor tugged on her braid, 'Now Anna, you can obey and sit up with me, or perhaps you'd prefer to be thrown across my lap?' Anna shook her head, and tried to step back. Sighing in exasperation, he hoisted her onto the back of the horse and pulled himself up beside her. She tried to move her back away from his chest, but he pulled her in close. 'I can't have my goods escaping me, can I?' Goods! Jesu, he was going to sell her! Another man's property. She started to tremble, but he pulled her in closer, his bristly beard grazing against her ear. 'I will not harm you Anna, but you are precious goods with which I will barter.'

The horses took off to the North coast with a jolt, throwing Anna against his broad chest, cringing when he chuckled. She tried to calm her breathing, to focus on not fainting or drowning herself in her own vomit which threatened with every lurch. When they finally stopped she could see a small longboat in the loch, partially obscured by the overhanging willows. The irony of the situation was not lost on Anna. Two men came out from behind the trees, barely glancing at the women, but greeting the riders like old friends

'Greetings, are we ready to sail?'

'Ja, Kristr. What have you done to that sweet little girl?' Johan laughed as he reached for the horse's reins from Ellrik, patting the neck of the sweating beast and placing a leather bucket of water at its feet. Taylr lifted Catherine's still limp body.

'Silly chit fainted on me in her panic,' grumbled Ellrik as he eased his hands under her still form, into Taylr's waiting arms. 'Although it did make the ride here pleasant looking at that pretty rump. I'd best try rousing her, hadn't I?' Reaching for his saddlebag, he pulled out a wineskin bag and put it to Catherine's lips. Easing back into Gaelic he said 'Come on little Catherine, waken up, you've slept enough now.' Catherine started to stir, opening her eyes, flashes of panic across her face as she recalled what happened and tried to jump up, but was quietly subdued by Ellrik who picked her up and took her to the longship, crooning in her ear.

Watching the scene unfold as if she were a bystander, Anna finally found her voice. 'Slept?!' Anna screamed through her gag in outrage, the sound muffled. 'Murderers!' The three men looked at her in amusement, as she spat every curse she could think of; they might not understand the words the twist of cloth, but the meaning was crystal clear. They looked away from her and continued conversing amongst themselves.

'A lively one Kristr, I wonder if she's always so spirited.' Johan chuckled, 'If only I could see inside that pretty head of hers.'

Kristr snorted, as he threw a pouch of silver to Johan 'Her liveliness is of no interest to me. If it interests you so much, you have little in the way of entertainment in your life.' Ignoring her torrent of half-formed words, he pushed the small of her back towards the boat. 'As soon as I receive what MacHyde owes me, he can have her back, if I haven't cut out her foul tongue by then.' Shaking his head in mirth Johan lead the horses into the darkness of the woods as Taylr pushed the boat from its hidden moorings.

Kristr joined Ellrik at the front of the boat, in a small tented area. There was barely room for two, never mind four. Catherine was still shaking, but Ellrik had wrapped her in a fur, keeping her warm as they approached the open sea. The tenderness he displayed to Catherine was so at odds with the rest of the day. 'Goods.' We aren't women, just tradable objects.' She was interrupted from her thoughts by feeling the gag being pulled from her mouth. She wriggled her jaw. 'Be quiet Anna, and I shan't silence you again.' She nodded, relieved to have the rag from her mouth. He held a skin of water to her lips. 'Drink, Anna. We have a long journey ahead of us.' She gulped the water gratefully, not realising her thirst. 'Easy sweetling,' she winced at the term of endearment, 'you don't want to choke'.

'Why have you taken us?' her voice was barely a whisper. 'You speak Gaelic but you are a...a..'

'Viking?' Kristr finished for her. 'Ja, I'm a Viking but I am also a merchant. As you will be spending some time as my – guest – let me introduce myself. My name is Kristr Greysteinn. You have met my brother, Ellrik?' Ellrik smiled at her, but she couldn't return it, the formalities almost comical after being bound, gagged and dumped on a ship to Heaven knows where. He still held Catherine in his arms, as if she was his betrothed, not Joseph's. 'You are to wed in a fortnight, is that not so?' How on God's earth did he know this? She nodded. 'To MacHyde?' She nodded again. 'He reneged on an arrangement we had, and he owes me at least a sack of silver. When he gives me my payment for my goods, he will receive his.' Anna gasped, her original feelings of untrustworthy preening MacHyde and his treachery as a merchant flying through her head. The matter of fact tone of this – Kristr – was taking chilled her to the bone.

'But if he doesn't pay?'

'He is your betrothed. You love each other. If not,' he shrugged, 'Your father will.'

'My father does not have that amount of silver! It was kept in monasteries – you Vikings know that! You raided them! And you have no quarrel with my father! This is between you and MacHyde.'

'Your brother will find the silver. He is betrothed to Catherine, is he not?'

'Aye, but...'

Kristr held up his hand to stop her, speaking slowly as if she were a child of five summers. 'It's very simple. Your family or your betrothed, have four seasons to provide me with my silver, or I shall get it by selling you at the slave market in Hedeby, after I have your maidenhead. That is worth at least a coin or two, don't you think?'

Anna looked down at her bound hands, and chewed her lip, blinking furiously to keep her tears away. How could this be her life after the fun she and Catherine had this morning? She wanted to curse this man, and every man she knew. She'd take his manhood afore he took her to bed.

Kristr looked down at Anna. 'Don't bite that lip,' he growled, pulling her lip from between her teeth. He straightened up, and walked out of the tent. Ellrik laid Catherine down against Anna, smiled and followed Kristr.

Holding onto the side of the boat, staring into the blackness, Ellrik finally spoke. 'Brother, why did you say that? You have never taken a woman unwillingly.' His voice lowered, 'Your mother..'

Kristr's voice remained even. 'I know. I have never taken an unwilling woman to my furs, and that will not change. T'was only my temper. Besides a threat make might make them more compliant on the trip home. I know she hates me, but if she knew more about her love, MacHyde, she would be happy to be far away from his kind. He does not make threats. He takes.'

'Ja, I know but you are not in the habit of terrorising a woman, And do not think that I saw you looking at that sweet pink mouth of hers. I know lust when I see it.'

'Nei. T'was not lust. I care nothing for her. She is a means to my silver.' He wished he meant that. The feel of her thick braid. That pink lip captured between straight white teeth. Johan Flynn would make the journey to Dubh Linn and bring news north within seven sennights. He did not expect that MacHyde would take bride-stealing lightly, and would retaliate. MacHyde was a merchant, interested in property and expensive objects from the far corners of the world. This was not about love for him, it was about displaying his finery, ruining the natural beauty of Anna, binding her with gold and silver, rather than a leather strip, the ornate chains strangling any spark out of her. He shook his head, trying to shake the images from his mind. That was not part of his plan.

Taking an oar he sat down and began to row. 'Go take the steer, Taylr can row with me. We have to make it North before the waxing moon.'

Back in the tent Anna wriggled closer to Catherine for heat. 'Can you release my bonds? I cannot bear to be trussed like an animal.'

Catherine fumbled with the knot. 'I cannot undo it, but your hands are so cold.' She rubbed Anna's hands trying to warm them. 'What do you think they will do with us? Both Ellrik and Kristr said that they would not harm us.' The names sounded harsh on her tongue. 'I know Joseph has some, but not enough to satisfy these Northmen, I am sure.' Catherine's thoughts tumbled out, each sentence faster and more frantic than the last.

'I believe that our family will do everything to pay the ransom, but I cannot vouch for MacHyde. If he has done as Kristr says, and cheated him out of coin, why would he pay for me?' She bit back a sob as she thought of what she had just said of herself.

Catherine stopped rubbing Anna's hands. 'I am sorry I cannot free you, but we both need to keep our strength up and our wits about us.' Anna curled her body into Catherine, as she pulled her cloak over both of them. They chose silence over unanswered questions, but once again Anna was lost in her thoughts. How did a pagan Norseman get a name like Kristr?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The heat of the breath against her cheek startled her awake. 'Hush. Let your companion sleep.' A finger pressed against her lips. She stilled as he took her hands in one of his and cut her bonds, not letting her hands fall. Dropping his dagger he gently rubbed the raised flesh with his thumb, circling the bruises. 'I would not have bound you so tightly if I had know you were so defenceless, with not even an eating knife in your possession.'

'Mayhap you would not have bound me at all!' Raymond, in wanting to protect his daughter from the harsh aspects of life, had effectively sealed her fate in becoming nothing more than a helpless maiden. An ability to work a loom or sew a kirtle was not much of a threat to an attacker. She stared at the dun-brown ceiling about her head, rippling in the wind, as he continued his gentle massage of her hands, relief at being free but dread at the truth that she was anything but.

'I had assumed that any man who lets his precious goods out of view would have had the foresight to ensure his goods had adequate protection.' He arched his brow, 'especially given the transaction that was due to take place between said goods and MacHyde before the new moon'.

'I am not goods, nor chattel, nor property.' her voice trembling but rising, making Catherine stir. She wished with all her heart she believed her words. Finally finding some courage, with the only weapon she had, her tongue, she hissed, 'But you, you … Viking are a kidnapper, a maurader, a beserker, a beast and no man of noble deed. Stop torturing me with your false gestures of care.' He released her hands and her arms numb from being in the same position so long fell limply to her side.

* * *

Earlier that morning Raymond of RathSteele had made his daily visit to his wife. Sitting down, he held her prayer beads in his hand, worrying each tiny leather nub as he spoke. 'Breda, Anna will marry soon.' He paused. 'You know that. Forgive me, my love. MacHyde may seem a little ostenatious for our precious child, but I believe he will be kind and keep her from harm.' Tracing the shape of the tiny silver crucifix with his forefinger, he continued talking to Breda. 'She has your beauty, and generous nature, but she doesn't accept she is becoming a woman to be loved and protected. She deserves to be cherished and respected.' He went back to idly rubbing the little beads on the worn Rosary. 'I will see you on the morrow. MacHyde is expected soon.' The lack of response did not bother Raymond. In fact if there had been a reply he would have been astounded. Bending over, he plucked a stray weed from the side of the grave, stood up and walked back to the rath.

With the Yuletide past, Breda had been dead for fifteen winters. Raymond had been in love since he first laid eyes on her, laughing with her father as he taught her to use a bow and arrow. He was but seventeen summers old himself, an untried youth and even in this first flush of love knew it would be his last. It had taken five years for Raymond to prove himself on cattle raids and trading missions before Breda's father would take his intentions seriously. He loved Breda's independent spirt, her skill with her bow and her willingness to help others. When she birthed Anna, Raymond imagined teaching his infant daughter all that her mother knew. Skill with a bow, dexterity with a dagger, to be kind and firm and willing to help those in need. That willingness to assist others ended the night Breda went to tend to one of the tribe living outside the ramparts of the rath. She was found the next morning, bruises surrounding her throat and her pallor as grey as the sky above. Screaming in rage and grief, Raymond vowed that his three year old daughter would never be left alone to fend for herself.

When the midday meal had come and gone Raymond still had no sign of his daughters. They had promised they would not go further than one hundred paces of the ramparts. 'Fergus! Diarmuid!' Raymond bellowed for his two most trusted warriors. The men came running, their chietain's voice echoing around the walls of the hall. 'My daughters have not come back from their walk this morning. We must go.' Why had he let his guard down, listening to Anna and her pleadings that she needed to discuss 'womanly things' with Catherine. Silly girls! When he found them he'd have them scrubbing floors and cleaning the hearth until their respective husbands came and took the troublemakers off his hands. He stopped and tried to breathe, his anger fleeting now, worry taking its place.

Saddling their horses the three men followed the two lines of crushed grass footprints to the stream. The trail continued to the woods. Raymond paled, any fury completely displaced by the horrors he expected to see. Dismounting, he handed his reins to Fergus and strode into the woods, sword drawn. Diarmuid looked uneasily at his comrade, and when they heard the howling from the woods they tore into the trees to find their chieftain hunched over a cloak, a parchment and a viking blade.

Galloping back to the rath, the church bells were rung to raise the alarm but Raymond knew it was too late. No ship had been spotted, no strangers seen. Knowing his chieftain would not survive the journey without killing himself, the horse or both, Diarmuid volunteed to ride and inform both Joseph and Catherine's family. Seeing the menacing evidence left behind, Fergus knew there had to be more to report, and followed the trail of what looked like three people through the woods.

Reading and re-reading the terse scratched sentences Raymond shook his head, his eyes blurring with red mist.

MacHyde took from me.

I took from him.

One sack of silver within four seasons.

He cursed himself for trusting MacHyde, for believing him to be honourable to his word, a suitable match for his daughter. He could not even be trusted to protect her, and he had not even sailed into the loch yet to claim her as his wife. In Raymond's eyes, when MacHyde arrived, the match would be annulled, if he did not drive a sword through his black heart first. He would sooner see his daughter live out her days in the rath than be a pawn in this man's treachery. He bellowed in outrage, remembering that he had invited the man to his rath early, so that Anna and he could become better acquainted, and ease Anna's fears.

When Joseph arrived back with Diarmuid and Catherine's brother, Emmett, the hall of RathSteele was in complete disarray. Chairs were overturned, linens ripped asunder, broken trenchers lay on the floor. Raymond's rage was obvious, but now he sat slumped on a bench, silent. Striding to the only father he had ever known, Joseph removed his mantle and tugged the stabbed parchment from his father. He fingered the slice through the words, reading the short text. Handing it to Emmett, his face grim, he said, 'MacHyde will pay for this travesty against our families.' Joseph did not know whose life he valued more. He loved both girls as sisters, but like Catherine he had no romantic feelings to her a wife. They had never discussed it, the unspoken agreement between them that this was a union of land, not of hearts.

Examining the runes on the dagger, for once wishing he could read Norse, Joseph stabbed the dagger into the table, its hilt wavering with the force of the blow. 'When do you expect to see MacHyde, father?'

'Within the next morning, perhaps the following day.' Raymond swallowed. The vikings would be well on their way to the dark pagan north by that time, their fast ships gliding along the coast of Albion. 'MacHyde was to arrive a few days before the marriage so that he could get to know his bride.' He put his head in his hands, the words choking in his throat as he said 'Bride'.

Joseph realised that with his father in this state, he would have to act as temporary chieftain. Calling the warriors together, along with every able bodied man who could wield a bow or sword, he laid out his plans for retribution. The discussion went on until near dawn. Fergus had reported the foot tracks through the wood, and the trail of two horses that led to the far side of the loch. No wonder they had not been seen; it was not expected that any boat would sail in that channel.

Joseph stood up and addressed the men. MacHyde would not set foot on RathSteele land.

By daybreak,Joseph and Emmett organised a camp by the loch where the ship was due to come in. Although exhausted physically and mentally, there they would confront MacHyde and challenge him to single combat. There had been enough loss of life, on their land. Joseph would fight the varlet one-on-one. He was not going to leave his post until he had MacHyde in his sights and his blood on his hands.

Joseph did not see MacHyde as much of a challenge in a fair contest. The one introduction they had was not impressive. His girth spoke of good living and no training. He wondered what his father had been thinking, listening to MacHyde's hollow words of honor and protection. This was not the time to interrogate his father, the fine strong man of yesterday a hollow shell today.

Raymond appeared to age a score of years overnight. All he could see in his mind were three women in his life, the three he had lost, the three he had failed.

There was not a long wait. MacHyde's ship had been spotted sailing into the loch, his colours flying from the mast as if he were a king returning from battle. The camp at the side of the loch provided no welcoming committee, cheering the victor home with the spoils of war. As the ship docked at the small wooden deck Joseph drew his sword. 'Halt, MacHyde.' He looked up at his once future brother-by-marraige, bedecked in jewels and medallions fit for a queen. His appearance was that of a jongleur, changing his sex for the merriment of the audience. He wanted to vomit. 'Your betrothed has been taken hostage, along with Emmett's sister.' he tilted his head toward Emmett. ' The ransom is a bag of silver, and unless you wish to lose your life this morn, you will tell me what has happened, and how you intend to make right this wrong.'

MacHyde looked down at the youths below. 'I am an honest merchant! That Viking Kristr Greysteinn is intent on destroying me. He wants nothing but my silver and gold, and will use any means to get it. Even ransom.' He stopped and paled at his words.

Joseph yelled as loud as he could manage, 'We did not they were captured by Viking, you brigand. What makes you say that it was this man who has taken my sister? Why would you throw a name around so freely if you did not have a quarrel with him? He gave a battle cry, 'disembark now so that I can run you through, you snivelling excuse of a man! I'll cut off your ballsack and throw it to the sea with your tainted silver and your worthless body following it to a watery grave!'

MacHyde gave a signal to his men to turn. 'I think I shall take my leave. Perhaps Greysteinn and his Viking brothers will return your womenfolk with a Norse bastard in their wombs. If so, my offer for your ruined sister still stands. Or your betrothed. It matters not to me.'

With this final insult Joseph's temper exploded. He ran to climb the side of the ship hacking at the timbers as the oarsmen started to row furiously. It was futile. 'Unleash the arrows!' he yelled, but it was too late. The ship was too fast for the weapons to do any real damage. 'We must follow! I want him dead!'

Grabbing him by the shoulders Emmett said, his cold even tone freezing Joseph to the spot, 'It will be done. Not today. Not on the morrow. Even if our sisters do not survive this ordeal, their deaths will be avenged. As my brother, you have my oath.'


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

RathSteele was a flurry of activity as preparations were underway to set sail Dubh Linn. Tempers frayed over who should make the journey, with each man stating his case to the others. Both Joseph and Emmett wanted to travel to find their sisters, but between Joseph's heated temper and Emmett's icy intentions to give MacHyde a slow painful death, it was finally agreed that Raymond would travel with Fergus and Diarmuid. Raymond hid his relief at his son's agreement to stay. With the horror unleashed the previous day, and the loss of one child, Raymond did not want to lose another. It had not gone unnoticed with Raymond that Joseph wanted to find his sisters, not sister. Perhaps the union he has planned would not be blessed with strong sons and daughters, if there was no romantic love between the pair. A small vessel that could sail close to the coastline would make for a much faster journey for the three men, than overland with horses. Raymond prayed that someone there may have heard of Greysteinn.

* * *

Anna was woken with a start, the shouting from outside the little tent jolting her back to reality. Catherine was already sitting up, hugging her knees, rocking in time with the swaying boat. Anna rubbed her eyes, sat up and out of habit, tucked the stray wisps of hair behind Catherine's ears. It was not going to make Catherine any tidier, her long hair matted from the tossing and turning of the previous day. She gave Anna a small smile, grateful that they still had each other for now.

The flap of the tent opened, and Ellrik stooped in, his tall frame swamping any space. 'Good morn, ladies, I hope you enjoyed your slumber.' Anna rolled her eyes, and tutted loudly. This chivalric speech was indeed preposterous. He smiled at Catherine, eyes crinkling in genuine affection. Anna looked between the two. Catherine's lips didn't move but it was obvious she didn't fear Ellrik. Realisation of what she witnessed left her stunned. If love really could strike, Eros was more mischievous than the fairy folk of time before St Patrick. Joseph had never looked at Catherine like that, the talk of a union of land overriding everything else. To see Catherine smile, this genuine but small smile at Ellrik left her with a small touch of envy. Envious of the emotions that she probably would never know.

She crawled past Ellrik through the entrance of the tent, squinting in the harsh daylight. The sail was up and the boat was moving swiftly through the water. She stared up at the huge piece of fabric, her inner weaver impressed with the size of the red and white striped cloth and how it captured the wind. These Vikings can capture anything, even the very air around them. She looked down the ship; only half of the dozen or so men on board were actively involved in work, but the others were busy with their own activities. One man was sharpening blades on a small whetstone, another pair were playing a game that looked similar to fidchell, or draughts, and three more were fast asleep in sleeping sacks. Taylr was at the very back of the ship, his eyes fixed on the horizon, steering the boat. Like the other men, they barely gave Anna a glance.

'We need to wash and relieve ourselves,' it sounded more of an order than a request. She wanted to apologise for her rudeness but bearing in mind that he wasn't going to throw his ransom into the sea, she remained silent.

'You don't give the orders here, Anna,' Kristr looked over at her. 'Do I have to punish you to remind you of your place here?' He grabbed her wrist as she went to strike him in outrage. 'Oh, no, sweet Anna, it will not be like that.' He nodded to the back of the tent. You will find a bucket there in which to perform your ablutions. And as for washing, you will have to wait until we get to Jarlshof . Keeping his hold on her pulled her close, gently inhaling the scent of her hair, but masking it with a loud sniff. 'You smell like seaweed, and much as I hate MacHyde I don't want to lose any value on my silver by failing to maintain your comeliness to a tolerable level.'

Resisting the urge to look down in shame at his comments she stared at him. 'With smooth words like that, I am hardly surprised that you have to capture women to have them near you.' Silently she thanked the Lord for giving her courage. 'Perhaps you should spend some of silver on lining that tongue of yours?'

'Perhaps you should spend more time considering your fate and less on my bed sport.' He chastised himself for his bawdy words. An innocent maid didn't know what pleasures and pain could be had with the act of coupling. He jerked her hand and pointed to the pot.

'I... I, we, can't go there.' There is no privacy!' He turned his back.

'I have no desire to watch, and neither do my men. You could be naked as the day you were born and they wouldn't look at you, never mind ravish you, any more than they would try to ravish a cow. You belong to me.' No wonder he was not fit to be around women as a mate. Did he just compare her to a cow? Kristr's eloquence and negotiation skills in were well known in Jorvik, Hedeby and Byzantium, but battling wits and barbs with this woman was making him look and feel a fool.

He turned around and true to his word, didn't disturb her. He strode down the ship to a barrel. He brought her a small bowl of water. 'Now you may wash your face and hands.'

Elldrik stepped out of the tent, holding out his hand to Catherine, helping her out, and shielding her eyes with the other. The compassion in the man was striking. 'I am sorry that there is not much privacy here, Catherine, but if you can forgive the conditions here, I promise that you will be well cared for at our father's steading.' He left Catherine alone, and went to a battered chest beside the tiller. Anna licked her lips as she saw him come back with some honeyed berries, flat bread and dried fish. She sat down, grateful for the food. Having sustenance in her stomach made her feel so much better.

Where is Jarlshof' she asked

On the Shetland Isles. I have a very good friend there and any family member of the Greysteinn Jarl is welcome there'

'You are a Jarl?'

'Nei, our father. Elldrik will be the next Jarl.'

And you are the second son?

'Aren't you a nosey little sea cow today? For the first time Kristr's eyes showed mirth.

She shrugged. 'If I'm to be your prisoner, perhaps you'll treat me as the chieftain's daughter I am, if we can be civil with one another.'

'I should feed you more often if it improves your disposition so much.' He walked his fingers along her arm, from her shoulder. 'You could do with a few more meals.' His fingers paused on her wrist, the red marks fading. 'And not prisoner,' he corrected, 'goods to be traded.' He silently cursed himself, seeing the hurt on her face. So how long had she known MacHyde, of the fat belly and the greasy hair? Kristr could not bear to think of his rank breath as he had brushed his lips against her cheek, his sweaty palms as he took her hand to kiss it. Had they joined their union?

'Do you love him?'

'Who? My father? Of course.' Anna hoped that he didn't mean MacHyde; there was no love in a match made without her consent, and now to spend a year in the hope that the men folk could gather enough silver to make this man happy. If MacHyde displayed such treachery to another merchant, she knew that he'd not see her worth anything that would cost him his coin, or his miserable selfish life.

'How much?'

Kristr looked at her 'How much what?'

How much to return me to my father?

'Your father? Not your beloved?' There may be some hope yet.

He drew a shape on the ground, dragging the knife lightly over the boards.

'This size of a sack filled with hacksilver, or this.' He drew a smaller shape. 'Two ingots of this size. I will accept one from your father. I believe Elldrik will pay Catherine's ransom. He seems smitten with her, and he does have a year's grace, does he not?' Anna ignored him.

'What did he steal from you?'

'Cardamom, Pepper and Saffron.'

'What are they?'

'Spices, from the Euphrates, in the city of Byzantium. They are used in medicines and cooking and they are most expensive and precious.' The mirth was there again. 'Like you.' Anna rolled her eyes. 'They come in tiny packages and have to be stored carefully. Like you. Or, they lose their potency. Most unlike you. And don't roll your eyes like that or I shall toss you over my knee and remind you who is in charge on this craft.'

She hoped he was jesting, but flushed with embarrassment. She might enjoy wriggling on his lap. Was the sea air addling her mind? Had she partaken in mead? She tried to focus.

'I have heard of Byzantium but I have never seen any of the wonders that are said to come from there. It must be so far far away.'

'Ja. The journey there and back takes six moons, but it is a very profitable voyage.' He suddenly longed to see her there, draped in silks, showing her the different foods, exposing her mind and senses to the variety of life that was outside her Donegal kingdom. He looked over the simple measurements of silver he had scored into the timbers. This was not part of his plan.

'How long before we reach Jarlshof?'

'With a fair wind today and tonight, we will be there tomorrow morning. We are moving fast along the coast of Albion. You will have had two full days and nights with me. Your year with me will slip by, a sunset at a time.' He sounded almost wistful.

Kristr was conflicted between stopping at Shetland or continuing home. He was tired, and the verbal sparring with his tiny captive had left his cock twitching. Helgena would be there, warm and welcoming and compliant to his needs. He may have teased Anna about vigorous loveplay, but with Helgena it left him satisfied. Since his mother's death as a small boy he hated the touch of a woman on his skin. She had been the last female permitted to show him any care in touch. He liked to keep his partners restrained during loveplay. His women always agreed, especially as they knew that the pleasure returned to their bodies was exquisite. He knew how to please a woman, but knew how they could please him, and it was the view of a reddened rump. He hated himself at times. Most men loved the touch of a woman and he had heard enough salty ballads and tavern talk to make it clear he needed something different. Anna was no tall broadshouldered Norsewoman; she would never meet his needs.

The Isle of Shetland was in sight, and the collection of buildings that comprised Jarlshof. To Anna they looked so different to RathSteele. Rather than a timber ring fort, protected by huge turf ramparts, these buildings were long rectangles, made of stone, and the sod on the roof made them almost disappear into the landscape.

The boat docked at the short pier; the men jumped out of the ship to pull it higher onto the bank. Kristr picked Anna up, and handed her down into Taylr's waiting arms, followed by Catherine. A group approached to greet the sailors, led by a statuesque blonde haired woman who walked slowly down the path, a horn of ale in each hand. Her age appeared to be nearly two score, but she did not wear the kerchief of a married woman upon her head.

'Elldrik, Kristr.' She handed the men the brimming horns. Welcome to my homestead again, her voice faded into a whisper. Anna's eyes narrowed as she watched the woman approach Kristr, her voice husky with intent. Why did she feel jealous towards this handsome woman nearly twice her own age? She scowled as she watched the valkryie take Kristr's hands in hers. 'Come, you will feast with my little fosterlings and I tonight.'

'Helgena, we are not alone. We have two women on board.' Helgena looked in the direction of Anna and Catherine, who were standing with Taylr.

'Since when have you started trading in thralls? The brown haired one is so tiny, but the other is passable.' She gave a hollow laugh. 'You have taken a thrall for your bed too Elldrik? Have you finally coupled with every married woman on the coast?' Elldrik glared in disgust. 'I jest, Elldrik, there are new brides wed every day. I'll have your thralls washed and appropriately dressed too. There is room for them near the dairy.'

'Nei. They are not thralls. Hostages. MacHyde has cheated me and this was his betrothed.' That was enough information for Helgena.

'So, in effect, you have taken a thrall. MacHyde will not pay. She can't be healthy if her father was giving her to that foul beast.' Kristr growled. Helgena assumed his temper was rising over the refrain of denial of money. He had become a handsome determined man, and she had trained him well.

'Ethel, Ruth, come here,' she summoned two thralls and pointed to Anna and Catherine, 'wash these little halflings and find them some clothing, although how you'll find anything small enough I don't know.' She offered Kristr her arm. 'Let us leave, we have so much to discuss since you were last here.'

Elldrik turned to Catherine and gave her hand a squeeze. He whispered in her ear, 'Later, my sweetmeat.' She smiled, again.

Ruth and Ethel signalled to the women to follow them. They did not speak the same language. Entering one of the smaller huts, Anna's eyes adjusted slowly to the light inside. The long single room was sunken, a long hearth in the middle of the room. There were lit bowls of fish oil, flames casting ominous shadows with their glow.

Ruth started to comb Anna's hair, complaining in Norse at the tatted mess. She motioned to her to remove her grubby kirtle. Reluctantly Anna did so, but tugged it back on as she saw four men come in with large basins of water. Standing by the fire, the woman pointed to an empty basin. 'Standa hedra'. Ruth started vigorously scrubbing her skin, pouring the warm water over her tingling skin. Catherine stood shivering in her chemise until Ruth had finished with Anna. Ethel wrapped her in a linen, and although cold she was glad to be clean, the process repeated for Catherine.

Of course the clothes were much too long. Sighing again and muttering in her own language, Ethel cut a length off the bottom, and used the strip of fabric to make a makeshift girdle. The brown linen fabric was not particularly coarse on her skin, but was not as soft as the woollen kirtle she had been wearing. She went to grab her own simple garments, but was stopped by Ethel, who threw them into the grey washing water and left the hut. She returned with a trencher of food for Anna and Catherine to share. 'Eta.' That wasn't too far from their own word of "ith". We aren't even to eat with them tonight.

Before the servants took their leave, locking the door behind them, Catherine asked Ruth, 'Elldrik?'

'Swet haus.' They were left alone.

In the sweat lodge, Ellrik threw more water on the hot stones, breathing in the warm air and studying the little beads of sweat forming between the hair on his arms. 'What do you see in that woman, Kristr?'

Kristr had fostered with Helgena from his twelfth summer. She only fostered young men, as was still evident by the group that had met them off the boat. The youths that came under her care were well treated and educated, but under Helgena's strict hand a chosen few were selected for additional training. Kristr had spent many nights in Helenga's chamber learning how to please a woman, and taking the punishment if he failed to do so. As the student grew into a man, he became the master of their relationship, and Helgena revelled in the focussed, rich, determined merchant she had created.

'She fostered me when I was grieving. She helped me.' Elldrik shrugged. Most second sons were fostered, not all turned out like his brother. He scraped the sweat and grime off his skin and plunged into the cool barrel of water. He did not trust Helgena, and his brother, so normally calculating and controlled did not seem himself around her.

'I for one will be glad to be finish this voyage.' He pulled on a clean tunic and leggings and left Kristr to his thoughts in the warm damp air.

Elldrik turned the key in the lock and stepped into the chamber. 'Well ladies, I hope you sleep well tonight. I shall see you in the morn'. He dropped a kiss on Catherine's forehead. 'I told you I would see you later, my sweet. Only a few more days before I can show you my home.' Catherine nodded, and gave a shy smile again. Anna began to wonder if Catherine was seeing Elldrik's home as hers too.

Helgena prepared her chamber for Kristr's arrival. She had washed, and fastened a band about her neck, that would have looked like a slave collar except that it was gold. A gift from Kristr. She arranged herself on the bed furs, no childbirth having marred her breasts or belly.

The door opened. Helgena's lips curled a smile in anticipation. 'Kristr,' she purred. She stretched her arms above her head, pulling the silver chains from the bedpost, twisting her wrists around their length, 'I've been waiting for you.' She took his silence to be part of their bed play. 'Do I not please you, Master Kristr? Come, I am willing for you, take me for your own.'

'Helgena, forgive me. I cannot.'

Untwining the silver from her wrists, she sat up in outrage. 'Cannot or will not?'

'Both.'

It's your thrall, isn't it? That little small girl-woman will never satisfy a fine Norse man like you. What we have is more than sex. I made you! I gave you your first ship to sail! ' She rose from the bed. 'Is it because she is Irish? Does she remind you of your mother? Do you wish bedsport with your poor dead mother? '

Kristr walked over to Helgena, his eyes blazing in fury. 'You have gone too far. We shall be off Jarlshof by morning.' He fingered the golden collar about her neck, curling his forefinger between the metal and her flesh he pulled her to him, forcing her neck upwards. 'We are no longer acquaintances, and never speak of my mother again.'


	5. Chapter 5

A short chapter, to link in some of the back story, and thank you for reading! Comments are welcome.

Chapter 5

Kristr stomped into the hall, and took up a space on a sleeping platform. Smiling to himself in the dark, Ellrik said nothing. Kristr was very much his own man, who meticulously planned his life and his voyages. Even plans had alternate plans. Judging from the heavy footsteps, the growling and angry tossing of the bedfurs, his plan with Anna had only been considered with one outcome. Silver. The dainty Irish woman was getting under his brother's skin and it was just what he needed to release the hold of Helgena.

'I know you are awake, Ellrik.' Kristr spoke in Gaelic so as not to share his business with the ears of the hall, and numerous male foster children of Helgena. 'I do not want to hear it whatever barb is caught in your gullet.'

'Little brother, it is good that you have come to your senses.' Ellrik said no more, and Kristr rolled onto his side and stared into the embers of the long hearth, thinking of blue eyes, pink lips and brown braids.

At dawn under the direction of Taylr, the men readied the boat for sail. Anna and Catherine were awakened with the general noise and hubbub of morning, the guttural sounds of Norse carrying clearly through the air. She tried the door, but they were still under lock and key. Cuddling back up to Catherine, Anna took a deep breath, preparing the question, the answer to which she was not sure she wanted to know.

'He his handsome, I will grant you that.' Catherine smiled in agreement. Since she had become a young woman, Catherine had never thought of a man in this way. Joseph was handsome, but he did not make her skin tingle when he was nearby, nor did he look at her with longing, the way that Ellrik did. She knew in her heart now that for any happiness in her life, a marriage to Joesph was no longer a choice. Her father would be displeased, but her budding emotions, locked away for four winters, since her betrothal was announced, could no longer be contained.

'If he takes you to his bed, will you go willingly?'

Another smile. 'Aye, I believe I will.' Three days ago Catherine would never have dreamt of disobeying her father, brother, or Raymond. But three days ago she would never have dreamt that she could fall in love. And as it was happening, Catherine could not and would not stop it.

It was the response Anna expected but didn't want to hear. The door opened and she jumped up. She moved too fast and the blood rushed from her head leaving her dizzy and seeing stars. An arm curled around her waist, and she turned her head, finally focusing on the grey eyes, the low spring sun dancing on the mess of copper curls, turning them into a flaming crown. She gave a small sigh when she thought how vibrant the colour and texture seemed to be compared to the pallid MacHyde. She immediately chastised herself and tried to wrench free.

Returning the stare, he cocked his head, 'Do you like what you see?' He steadied her, resting his hands on her shoulders. 'Now that you are clean, I like what I see, but the garments of a thrall are not becoming.' He put a trencher on the bench. 'Eat. The bread is fresh and the bacon, eggs and cheese will provide sustenance for the journey.' His eyebrow arched as he continued 'I know now how sour you become when you are hungry, and I'd just as soon have the last three days begin with you in a pleasant disposition.'

Stabbing at the meat with an eating knife she glared at him. 'You gave your word that you would not harm us, but now you have us dressed as slaves. Has MacHyde taken so much from you that you would in turn take so much from us?' She shoved the food into her mouth, taking her anger out on the viands as she chewed furiously.

'Easy, little piglet. You'll choke.' His eyes narrowed. 'I have taken nothing of worth from you yet. And I did not say you were a slave, merely that you are dressed like one. Helgena provided you with clothing to see you finish your journey. She was obviously in league with Loki himself to come up with something so ugly for someone so comely.' Anna blushed. This cold north air must be addling her brain. He handed her a cloak, its fine woollen weave a contradiction to the brown linen sack she currently wore. He fastened it about her neck. 'This is mine. It will keep you warm as we sail north.' She nodded her thanks and fingered the soft fabric and followed him out of the hut.

As the boat pushed off the bank, Anna took a final look at her surroundings. She hugged Catherine. For once she was turning to Catherine for comfort, rather than the other way around. Their next stop would be her last, unless her father could find them. Helgena had not come to bid them farewell, but had stood at the door of the main hall, twirling a dagger in her hand, her expression grim.

* * *

In the three days since Johan Flynn left Kristr, Ellrik and the terrified girls, he had been busy. He knew no harm would come to them, but, as with everything he saw both sides and understood their fear. He had known Kristr since he was a young angry boy arriving at Helgena's steading. As Kristr's senior by three summers, Johan became a friend to him, his natural good humour and patience matched evenly to Kristr's anger and temper. Helgena may have been a firm foster mother, but she was able to see the talent in the young men in her care, and Johan was no exception. She taught him to hide in plain sight, to be seen by all, to disguise his identity and accent, and helped him develop a network of contacts that would get him out of any difficulty. Most importantly, she taught him how to elicit information from his conversations without the threat of torture. He was known by everyone but at the same time known by none. It was best that way.

In the an ale house on harbour of Dubh Linn, he met with one of the docksmen. Handing him a pouch of silver, he said 'I expect Jack MacHyde to reach port in the next day, when he does, you will know where to find me.' The squat stocky man nodded. 'The other group may be more difficult to identify. They will be from the far north of this island, from Donegal. 'Twill be their accents that mark them as visitors to the settlement. If I am correct, allow three days before expecting them.' Emptying the silver into his hand, examining the coins, and handing the small pouch back to Johan, grunted in agreement. Johan pulled the overlarge cowl of his cloak over his head and slipped off between the timber buildings.

* * *

Kristr was right, thought Anna. Despite the bright sunshine, the air was cold, and she shivered. He playfully tugged her braid. 'Cold, little piglet? Or scared? You should not feel either.' He pulled her close. For a moment she felt safe against his broad chest, but pulled away.

'I am neither. And why do you care? I'm only goods for trade, dressed as a thrall, you have sealed my fate.' She turned and stared out onto the horizon.

'Nei. You are not a thrall and will not be treated as one. There are no slaves on my father's homestead, and have not been for twenty three summers. There are only freedmen and women. My father is a fair man and a strong leader. In return for the protection of Kerik Greysteinn, all work together and the steading is profitable.'

Confusion crossed her face. 'But what of all the raids, of capturing our people?'

'Ja. It happened. My father had taken slaves in his youth. But something happened many years ago that changed my father's opinion on owning thralls.' Anna looked at him, expectantly. 'He had captured my mother as a slave, but fell in love. And it happened as quickly as between my brother and your sister.' His eyebrow arched, again.

'You and Ellrik are not full brothers?' Anna knew any resemblance in both nature and looks between the two was like night and day. Their only similarity was their height.

'His mother was my father's concubine. She is now his wife, and has been for a long time.'

'But your father acted as husband to two wives? That is not the Christian way.'

He laughed. 'My father is not Christian. My mother was, and she gave me my name, Kristr. 'Tis the Norse word for Christian.' Anna was surprised at his revelation, but it explained how a heathen came by the name.

'Does she still live there?'

'Nei, she is dead. She was killed when she returned to Ireland to go on a pilgrimage to Clonmacnoise, the Irish monastery, when I was eleven summers.'

'I am so sorry. My mother died when I was three winters old, so my memory of her is scant.'

Looking into her clear innocent blue eyes, he said 'Would you like to know the story.'

'If it is not too painful to tell.'

'Her name was Grainne, meaning 'Grace'. She was small in stature like you, with flame red hair like mine.' He ran his fingers through his hair. 'My father had captured her on a raid, and had stolen her because of her distinct hair and beauty. She would have been useless as a thrall. When he saw the bruises on her body, he knew that she had been beaten. By her husband.' He scowled. 'At least we have laws that allow a woman to divorce a man who is not fit to be her husband.'

'She must have been terrified to go from one abusive man to another.'

He clenched his fists, and slowly unclenching them he continued. 'My father did not abuse her. He loved her. Raping defenceless women is not a badge of honour or evidence of prowess. She was welcomed into my father's steading as a freed woman, and within ten moons I was born. There are only four seasons between Ellrik and I and our mothers shared the childrearing.' There was no point in trying to explain to Anna the nuances of Norse life. To him, the confusion was evident on her face as she tried to make sense of their life at the steading. He continued, 'At eleven summers my mother wished to take me to Clonmacnoise, as a pilgrimage to her faith and that I may become a full member of her church. My father accompanied her to Dubh Linn and then she and I left with a group of pilgrims, monks and nuns. No more than one day's travel from Dubh Linn we were ambushed by brigands. My mother kept whispering to me, 'Hide! Hide!', but there was nowhere to do so, and I would not leave her. She pushed me behind her and I could only watch as a short fat Irishman singled her out and raised his sword. It was the last thing I remembered before wakening up by my father. He said that five days had passed since the atrocity. She was the only one killed,'

'Did your father find the culprits?'

'Nei. And in my grief I rejected everything to do with the Christian faith. I could not reconcile with a God who would cause so much misery to so many people.' They sat in silence for a short while. He stood up and squeezed her hand 'Thank you for listening to my tale. 'Tis a long time since I spoke of it, but I think of her every day.' Talking about Grainne opened old wounds, but to see Anna's supportive smile as she thanked him for his story eased his pain, and he went to take his place at the tiller.

Anna settled herself in the small tent, grateful for its shelter from the bracing wind as the boat skimmed over the waves. Her belly was heaving, not with seasickness, but with the story that Kristr had shared with her. Seeing her friend's pallor, Catherine gave her a hug, as she stood up to take her leave. 'I should like to say hello to Ellrik now.' Anna smiled at her friend. Catherine's grin was always infectious and it was now an almost permanent feature on her beautiful face. The year as a hostage had seemed interminable, but as Anna suspected Catherine would not be returning with her, these upcoming seasons would be so short.

She mused on Kristr's statement on divorce in his own land. Her status in life was not much different to any woman in Ireland. She may have had fine clothes and comfort in the rath, but whether of noble or low birth, they were all the same, women to be married off to breed until they died from childbirth or exhaustion. Their station in life could be so casually decided by men. She thought of the old myths and legends, the warrior queens, the strong women with as many rights as men. Times had changed with the new faith; the priests and monks had control over the laws. Divorce was forbidden. Forgiveness and turning the other cheek may have been the mainstay of the faith, but there was not much protection against a woman who was wronged. The image of a young red-headed lad being protected by his mother as she saved his life haunted her mind.


	6. Chapter 6

hello, I hope this short chapter doesn't disappoint! Thank you for reading, and there is method in my madness! -Ban

Chapter 6

Johan looked at his reflection in the highly polished silver plate. The person who looked back at him was no longer his quiet unassuming self. He practiced his sneer, and his movements. He would have to work on the accent, his mother tongue of Gaelic too fluent for and natural voice too low to be credible. Another sneer in the in the shining plate, this time in perverse approval at his disguise, the excessive padding around his waist, his hair piled on his head, held in place with a sticky mixture of oils and resin. Although he was not short, the extravagant style added another hands-width to his height. He pinched his nose and cheeks until they flushed red with burst blood vessels, the sign of a man who had taken too much wine; It was not attractive, but that was the point and his skin would heal. The heavily embroidered purple tunic and saffron cloak finished the spectacle. The harbour master had reported MacHyde's arrival the previous eve. Another day practice and his trap would be set.

'Jack Son-of-Hyde!' Johan swept into the hall like a prince. 'I demand that you meet with me and settle my accounts from which your partner has run away.'

MacHyde looked up from his trencher, picked his ear with his meat knife, and examined the contents between his fingers, 'I'm sure you are mistaken. I have no trading partners.' He stuck the dagger in the table.

Johan was not remotely intimidated. 'You lie! I know that you have traded with Kristr Greysteinn and that Norseman has cheated me.' MacHyde flicked the handle of the knife, causing it to reverberate. Johan continued, 'I spent seven moons travelling down the Volga to the Abbaside Caliphate! I did not do battle with barbarians and savages to have that half-bred Norseman steal from me!' Johan was enjoying himself. There was no way a man dressed and fattened such as he was would be able to wield anything larger than a drinking cup and a leg of pheasant. The comedy of the act was dangerous, but Johan thrived on the deception.

'That was a far way to go.' MacHyde was interested. The fine fabric of this man's clothing made him curious as to his story, and he was envious as to where the bright colourful garments were sourced. 'Before I speak with you further, you have my name. What is yours?'

Johan's natural ability as an actor was now in full flow. Helgena had taught him well. 'My name is Albert of Northumberland, I am a proud Saxon and and I demand satisfaction of this slight to my name.'

'You are mistaken. Greysteinn is no friend of mine.' MacHyde summoned the serving girl and pointed to his cup. She filled his cup, and cried out softly as he slapped her hard on her rump.

Johan winced as he glanced at the poor girl, but trying to ignore her pain he continued, 'So not only do you deny you know Greysteinn, you deny me a cup of mead? You were seen at the port in deep discussion. I have witnesses!'

'You shriek like a wench in a tussle, Albert of Northumberland. Tell me, what do you claim he stole from you?'

'Garnets! Precious blood red stones from the peninsula! I wanted to trade in Jorvik, but he looked at them, closed his meaty fist around them and left.' Johan continued in his loud voice. 'This is all he failed to steal.' He dropped three large stones onto the table. MacHyde would know their worth. It was expensive but worth the ruse. 'Twill be a small price to pay you with these if you help me wreak my revenge.'

'It seems that Greysteinn has made enemies further than these islands. You have not been the first person to pay visit to my hall this week.' Johan sneered. The trap was closing.

'So he has cheated others? What did he take on them? Gold or Sapphires?' Johan paused for effect. 'Or spices?'

MacHyde gave a hollow laugh 'None of those things. Although I have stolen the very spices you speak of from him. I will not rest until I have destroyed the bastard Greysteinn and his father. Your stones and the payment from my other visitor will pay for mercenaries.' Snap. Johan's trap had closed. Time for questions. And answers.

'So, MacHyde, what did Kristr Greysteinn steal from them? Short of a long-boat load of pretty virgin Saxon bed thralls, I can't imagine what else would hold such high value.'

MacHyde sucked the mead off his moustache. 'Their pride.'

'What did your other visitor offer for the destruction of Greysteinn?'

'Aha, they don't want Greysteinn dead. They want to see his sorrow at the loss of his woman.'

'Greysteinn's mother is dead, I believe she died when he was still a lad.' Johan held his calm.

'Oh I know. Grainne died on a pilgrimage to Clonmacnoise.' MacHyde waved dismissively, as if shooing a fly. The use of her name and flippant actions did not go unnoticed by Johan. 'They aren't talking about his mother, the woman who ran from her husband into the arms of a Viking raider. They are talking about his new woman. Barely out of girlhood. A tiny little maiden with blue eyes and brown hair. The same woman he stole from me over the loss of his precious spice. And when I take her back, I will have at her before I pass her to my, ah, customer.'

Johan paled beneath his purpled skin, but smoothly queried, 'And what is their payment to you?'

'This.' MacHyde skidded a shiny object across the table. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' Johan bent over and picked it up. He had seen this piece before. A golden slave-collar.


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry, I couldn't wait :o)

Chapter 7

Ellrik poked his head into the tent. He cleared his throat, then a bit louder. Anna stirred, and nudged Catherine, who opened her eyes wide and smiled with delight when she saw his blonde head and wide smile, 'Ladies, I bring glad tidings. Today we shall arrive at our steading.' He spoke with his usual formality, obviously still a source of mirth for him. Catherine's smile was there but as she looked over to Anna, it faded slightly. She had never felt so relaxed in her life, but squeezing her sister's hand realised how hard this was for her. 'Come out and look at the beautiful Scandinavian scenery,' Ellrik offered a hand to each girl and pulling themselves up against his tensed arms, left the tent.

Anna gasped. It was beautiful, and nothing like she had ever seen before. The channel felt as if it had been carved by the ancient gods themselves; the high cliffs, leading to green farmland in the distance. She felt a hand on each shoulder. 'Are you well?' She sighed. She wasn't sure. 'You will be made welcome on my father's land. And after these four days on the open sea, you will appreciate the hospitality offered there. There is a lot more comfort there than on this boat.'

He rubbed her shoulders, cupping his hands over their small curves. She closed her eyes and sighed in appreciation at the touch, 'I suppose you are right.' Throwing back his sharp words of nearly a sennight ago, 'I must smell like a sea cow.'

'You do not now, and you didn't then. I was angry and most rude.' Kristr had to concede that he had been horrid to her, but that was before he saw her spirit, and her frustrations with life, and choices made for her. In effect, he had taken another choice from her, but he had done so. Kristr felt empty when he mused on the choice she would make when the time came for her to return to Donegal.

'Tis a beautiful country. Is it all like this?' She craned her neck, looking up at the sheer grey cliffs, topped with the warm green of the evergreen firs, before peering over the edge of the boat looking into the deep blue of the water.

'Ja. Of course it is not all fjords, but sailing down them makes me feel like my homeland is welcoming me back to my steading. My father Kerik Greysteinn is Jarl, and Gertrude, his wife is the woman of the house. She is a fine Jarl's wife.'

There was no time like the present. 'But how did your mother live as a second woman in the household?'

'When Kerik brought my mother back to the steading, she was so scared that her husband would come after her, or that my father would give her back to him. Gertrude took care of her and protected her as if she were a sister. Although she was my father's second woman, he loved both equally. I know to your Christian sensibilities it seems wrong, but how you judge one society by another one's rules?'

He was right. To her mind it was wrong; she was brought up to believe that a marriage was between a man and a woman for life. That was before she realised how complicated and ugly life could be. Trying to change the conversation, she lightened her tone. 'Fjords. Fjords. Tis my second Norse word,'

'And what was the first?'

'Kristr. Christian. That was my first word.' She paused. 'Did you know that today was to be my wedding day?' She thought of her father and how believed he had made a good match. She would have been packed up now, her belongings and herself on the way to Dubh Linn to be with MacHyde.

'I knew your wedding feast would have been soon.' Everything was making his soul feel black today, the memory of the twin pain of his mother's death and Anna's abduction, in contrast to the twin beauties of Scandinavia and Anna of Rathsteele that were before him today. Anna may never forgive him, but he could try to provide her with some answers. 'I could not let MacHyde win. He is corrupt, duplicitious and sneaky in the extreme. Now that I have met you I know he would have used one as exquisite as you. He would have shared your body with any trader who would have given him more coin.' Anna gulped with fear and repulsion as she listened to Kristr's words. 'And now,' he whispered, 'I don't regret taking you from him.' He did not deserve her affections after his actions of the previous week, but to know that he had saved her from the claws of his sworn enemy gave him some comfort.

She turned from the grey cliffs to look up into his grey eyes. 'What will happen to us at your steading?'

He ran his hand through his hair before tracing his finger over the pattern of her braid. 'You will be safe, you will be cared for, you will be protected from mauraders.' She snorted in disgust, pulling her plait from his fingers.

'That's what my father thought at RathSteele, and look what happened there!' She couldn't contain the bitterness in her voice. 'If you were going to take me hostage for another man's crimes, you could have least have let me say goodbye to my father. Until MacHyde arrived for the wedding, he will not know what has become of me.' Kristr could not argue with that. Hostage taking in Ireland had been in place since the dawn of time, and he had not obeyed the Irish rules, but he was not an Irishman. Any link to his mother's line ended when he was eleven summers old.

'The deed is done now, and each day may bring you closer to your father.' She tried not to tremble. Each day brought her closer to her fate, and now she was confused as to whether her fate laid with this handsome Viking or with her own in Ireland.

* * *

The cliffs slowly gave way to land, still a dull winter green and brown, but no less majestic. They were dotted with small tidy steadings, the men in the fields stopping the work to bellow barely heard greetings to the vessel, returned just as noisily by the men on the boat. In the distance she could see the crowd forming at the side of the water. As Kristr, Ellrik and the men readied the boat to dock, Anna sought out Catherine, who could barely contain her joy at seeing Ellrik's homestead. They could make out a number of long, low buildings similar to those at the Jarlshof on Shetland, as well as barns and stables. The Greysteinn homestead spoke of wealth, prosperity and security.

Ellrik disembarked first, followed by Kristr. As Taylr lowered Catherine into Ellrik's arms, and herself into Kristr's, the indication of ownership wasn't lost on Anna. She looked around at the crowd, who were led by a giant of a man, and followed by a woman; her head was covered by a kerchief, and she was bearing two horns of ale.

'Hej, Fadir,' Ellrik greeted the brown haired man, whose bushy beard was beginning to show strands of silver. He walked to the woman, who was obviously his mother by the features they shared. 'Madir,' he smiled as he took the horn of ale from her, before she passed the second to Kristr. Anna observed the ritual with interest. Kristr may have led the raid leading to her abduction, but here he was most definitely the second son. The blonde woman beamed with pride as only a mother could when looking at her children. She hugged Ellrik, spilling his ale. Kristr smiled at the exchange, and drained his horn.

Kerik clasped his son's forearm, clapping him on the back he said 'By Thor, we shall feast tonight, my sons have arrived home, and justice has been done for MacHyde's dishonourable actions!'

Kristr looked at Ellrik and then at their father. 'It did not go quite as expected. MacHyde, true to his cheating nature, refused to give me my silver, so I took something much more precious in kind.' He nodded to the women, and as Ellrik walked over to lead them to his parents, Kerik's eyes narrowed. Anna paled. She did not understand a word that had been said so far, but it did not take a scholar to know that Kerik was furious. Ellrik squeezed her hand, not looking at her; he only had eyes for Catherine, but she tried to calm her fears at his reassuring touch.

'Son, what is the meaning of this?' Kerik bellowed, ignoring his wife's hand on his arm. 'We do not deal in thralls! I shall not allow you to keep slaves on this steading!'

'Fadir, Anna and Catherine are not thralls.' Kristr took Anna's hand from Ellrik. 'Anna was betrothed to MacHyde, due to marry him today, of all days. Her father was deceived by his coin and his promises to make an honourable husband.' He held his hand up asking his father to let him finish, as he continued with his tale, Ellrik nodding in agreement with Kristr's retelling. 'However, my problem is...' Ellrik interrupted with a cough, '... our problem is that we are not sure we ever want these women to go back to Ireland.'

'What of the ransom? You say MacHyde will not pay, but what if her father comes with coin?'

'If she choses to go with her father, I will let her go. Until then I offer her my protection.'

'And what is your plan if her father does not arrive?' Kerik knew his son, and his dislike of unfinished business.

Kristr closed his eyes, trying to shut the decision out of his mind, 'Then I shall take her back to her father, if she wishes it.'

Kerik pursed his lips, and addressing his other son, he said, 'and what of you, Jarl apparent? Do you give the same promise?

'I do not.' Ellrik smiled at Catherine, who shyly returned his gesture. 'I wish to take this maiden as my bride.'

Ellrik's parents looked at each other. At twenty four winters, he was not old, but as a Jarl should be seeking a mate. 'We shall talk of this further my son.'

* * *

Gertrude held out her hands to the women, gesturing that they should follow her. She pointed to herself. 'Gertrude.' Then touching each girl's cheek, 'Cat-ter-ine, An-na.' She took them to the bath house where, under Gertrude's direction, they were tended to by women of the steading. Anna still blushed at being nude in front of others, but this time their gentle ministrations helped her to relax her tense muscles. She still was not sure of what had happened between Kristr and his father, the tone of the language sounding abrasive, even when it was obvious they were happy. She sat quietly in the tub as her hair was rinsed with a fragrant water, and combed though.

Wrapped in a clean linen, Gertrude returned with some clothes. She helped Anna to dress in a soft, clean, white undershift, and a green dress. She looked down at her new attire, rubbing the smooth spun wool between her fingers. It was much finer than what she had been dressed in by Helgena. 'An-na.' Gertrude gently raised her chin with a finger and smiled. She added the last piece of Anna's clothes, an apron dress, pinned into place with two silver brooches. As Gertrude and the women made sounds of approval, Anna bit her lip and looked at the brooches. Silver. It was silver that was keeping her here. Gertrude touched the brooches. 'Kristr.' Anna assumed it meant they were from him. Torn between acceptance of the gift and the symbol of her price to her father, Anna shook her head. 'Nei.' Gertrude nodded. 'Ja.' Anna had to concede. She was the stranger here. Catherine twirled in her new outfit. She looked like she belonged, that she was home.

* * *

Kerik and his sons went to the main hall. Kristr felt like a boy of eight again. 'Well, do you care to explain your plans further, my sons?' Kristr may have felt like a boy, but Kerik felt like time had turned back twenty four summers, when he had first taken Grainne. Her grey eyes were filled with fear when he had found her crouching behind the church. She had cried out in pain when he had gone to bind her, and on seeing the bruises and welts on her arms, his heart had melted and all he wanted to do was rescue this beautiful woman and take away her pain. He crooned in her ear as he scooped her up in his arms. She did not fight him, but at least she had stopped trembling. He would never let another man hurt her again. That was until he had agreed to her Christian pilgrimage to Ireland, when his world was split apart.

'With your permission, Fadir, I should like Anna to live in my hall.' I will give her a chamber of her own. I will not take her to bed unless she is willing.

Kristr scratched his beard. 'Is she willing?'

'Nei, not at the moment. Fadir, I will not force her. You know I have more coin stored under the ground and in the sea to last three lifetimes. This started as a means to teach MacHyde a lesson, and my plan did not go as I expected. I did not expect Anna to be the proud, strong maiden that she is.'

Turning to his eldest son and heir, 'Well Ellrik. Tell me of your intention. Does your bride come to you willingly?'

'She does. She was with Anna when we found her. I am as guilty as my brother in the kidnapping of these women, but when I laid eyes on her, I knew I wanted her. She is betrothed to Anna's brother, but it is not a love match.'

'If she is betrothed to another, I will not permit you to marry her until four seasons have passed.' When Ellrik moved to protest, Kerik cut him short. 'I am Jarl, and until the terms of the ransom demand are complete, you may not wed. However, if she is willing, and only if she is willing, you may take her as your woman.'

'As you wish Fadir.'

* * *

Gertrude led Anna and Catherine into the hall. Standing to greet them, Kristr smiled in pride. 'You look beautiful.' He took her hands and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek.

'Thank you for the brooches,' Anna tried desperately not to sound so formal, but in the unfamiliar clothes she did not feel herself. 'Can you please thank Gertrude for me, and ask her what chores I may do to earn my keep? We cannot stay here without contributing to the steading.'

'You will not be working today, as I wish to show you to my hall, but I shall talk with Gertrude and we can come to an arrangement.'

Taking their leave, Kristr walked Anna to his hall. 'I am the second son, but I like having my own privacy, and during times of feasting, 'tis good to have somewhere else to be.' Anna's cheeks reddened, believing he was talking about coupling. When they entered from the bright light, it took Anna's eyes time to adjust to the dark. He led her to the side of the hall and, pulling back a cowskin curtain, pointed into the chamber. There was a bed, piled with furs, a chest and a fish-oil lamp. 'This will be your chamber. I will be on the other side of the wall to you. Now, that I have spoken with my father, I need to bathe and dress for tonight's feast.' Kissing her cheek again, he took his leave.

Watching him leave the hall, she touched her cheek where he had planted the delicate kiss, and brought her fingers to her lips. She looked at the hall, her chamber, her clothes and fell on the bed, sobbing with emotions that had been closed off for the past week.


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for reading, and thanks to DreamsofValhalla!

Chapter 8

When Kristr returned, Anna was curled up on the furs, her beautiful face stained with tears, her waist length hair unbound, curling over her slender back. He paused at the curtain, taking in every detail; the thinly woven linen of her apron dress falling over the dainty mounds of her breast as her chest rose and fell with each breath, the fine wool of the dress flowing over her sweetly curved behind. For the first time since he had lost his mother, new emotions were arising in him. He wanted to feel close to this woman, to make love to her, to feel her hands on his skin. He planted a kiss on her forehead, and she woke with a start.

'Easy, easy, I did not mean to startle you,' he said softly as he looked into her huge blue eyes, eyelashes clumped together with tears. Cupping her head with his hands and running his thumbs gently across her face, he brushed the remaining drops away. 'These past few days have brought many changes for you, but know that whilst you are here, I will teach you the language so that you may engage with the people of the steading. You can learn about our Norse way of life. I will do everything in my power to protect you.'

She lowered her gaze and whispered, 'But who will protect me from you?'

He gently raised her head, to look her in the eye again. 'You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I cannot deny I want you, but not until you want me too.' He circled her cheeks. 'And in light of our first meeting, I shall teach you how to use a dagger to offer you some protection from harm. Tis not appropriate that all your care is left in the hands of another.' Unless she was a Valkryie, she would have been subuded by Kristr regardless on that fateful day. By giving her some ownership of her own protection it would increase her confidence and trust in him.

Offering her his hand she stood up, adjusted her little silver brooches, straightened her dress, and took a deep breath, composing herself after her emotional release and dreamless sleep. Pulling her close in an embrace, Kristr inhaled the sweet scent of her hair. Holding her for a moment he finally said, 'The meal in our honour is about to begin.'

Sit and I shall fix your braid. She didn't argue as he skillfully combed her hair and tidied it into a long braid down to the middle of her back. He turned her around, and smoothing his hands over the crown of her head, he admired his handiwork with a grin, a tug on the plait and a nod of approval.

He proferred his arm, and linking hers with his, they left for the main hall.

There must have been one hundred people in the hall, sitting at trestle tables by the benches that lined the wall. The hearth in the middle of the floor burned brightly, casting dancing shadows over the assembly. As they walked toward the dais, silence fell on the chattering crowd. Kerik stood up, and raising his horn in toast, shouted, 'Fortune favours us, my sons have returned home!' The mass of people roared in approval. Glossing over the truth a little, to save the both the blushes of his sons' hostages, and the memory of his own initial encounter with his beloved Grainne, he added, 'and they have brought sweet Irish maidens to add more beauty to our land!'

All eyes turned to Anna, and holding on to him tightly, she looked up to Kristr in confusion. 'All is well, my father has just welcomed us home. We Vikings can be a noisy lot when we have enjoyed too much mead.' The fact that she had turned to him in her fear, hadn't gone unnoticed.

Leading her to the dais he sat down next to her whilst a trencher of boar, pheasant, cooked nettles and turnip was set before them. She cut two tranches of barley bread from the loaf in front of them, and smiling, she handed him a piece. He smiled back, his grey eyes twinkling silver in the firelight. She was beginning to trust him because she wanted to, not because she had to do so.

* * *

True to his word, the harbour master informed Flynn that the men from Donegal had docked . There was no need for disguises here. MacHyde's actions had told him that there was more at stake now than a couple of scraps of silver. When Johan Flynn had seen the golden slave collar he knew who owned it, and who had given it as a gift.

During their years as foster brothers, Helgena had singled Kristr out for special duties, and every boy on Jarlshof knew what punishment waited those who could not meet Helgena's exacting standards. He spoke to Johan of the pain of losing his mother so violently and of Helgena's punishments for the tiniest infraction. During their many conversations as youths and later as men, Kristr had confided what had happened during those years, how he felt he had deserved to be punished for not saving his mother, and consequently, the type of rough bed-sport it caused him to enjoy. The difference between Kristr and a warrior in bloodlust was that the only women Kristr took to his furs shared his particular tastes. Flynn, when he saw the collar, knew that Helgena was behind it, but her jealousy of Kristr's new love would never bring him back into her bony arms.

Dressed in the breeches, short kirtle and cloak of an Irishman, he walked into the ale house. There was no doubt which man was Raymond of RathSteele. He looked like a fine handsome man who had aged overnight, as if by the curse of a banshee. The two men with him did not look much better, but with anger etched on their faces rather than sorrow.

Strolling over to greet them in the traditional Irish manner he said, 'God be with you, travellers from the North of this fair Island. My name is Johan Flynn and I wish to speak with you on a matter of some importance.'

Raymond looked up, eyes narrowing 'What do you know of my business?' Flynn, as usual, was not perturbed by the man's menacing tone.

'If you would be so noble as to let me speak, I shall then address any issue you may have.'

Looking to Fergus and Diarmuid, and back to Flynn, through gritted teeth, Raymond snarled 'Agreed. Speak.'

'I was with Kristr and Ellrik Greysteinn when they took your true daughter and your foster daughter.' Drawing his sword Raymond jumped to his feet intending to run the man through. Calm as ever, Flynn didn't move. 'Please, sit down. You agreed to hear my tale. If you have not had satisfaction, then you can try to best me with your sword. But all that will do is leave your daughter fatherless.' Raymond sat down. His skill would be hampered by his rage.

'Kristr and Ellrik have taken the women to Scandinavia, not Dubh Linn as you would have expected. They will be safe there, especially as I feel that young Ellrik has taken quite a shine to Catherine.' Johan bounced his eyebrows but was met with cold stares from the three men.

'Those barbarians have taken my daughters for another man's crimes!' Raymond spat in outrage. 'MacHyde will not pay silver for them, and my land does not have that kind of wealth, since the pillage of the monastries at Bangor and Devenish. Even by going to all the chieftains in Ulster I shall not be able to gather that amount of coin in four seasons!'

'And that is the least of your problems. I have reason to believe that on their travels back to their own land, Kristr's boat stopped off with an acquaintance of his.' Johan had to tread carefully. 'This jealous acquaintance felt that Kristr was falling in love with Anna, and has communicated same to MacHyde, who would covet anything that belongs to Kristr.'

Raymond's face fell. 'So even if I can come for my daughter and pay the silver, she may still fall into MacHyde's hands, for this ... acquaintance?'

Flynn nodded. 'I do not yet know why MacHyde wants to ruin Kristr, but I shall eventually find out.'

Raymond put his head in his hands. He had failed those who had depended on him. 'So what can I do to help you secure the future of both my daughters?

'I will be making haste North within the next sennight. I can bring news to your daughters that you and their brothers are well. It may allay any fears that they have.'

'I shall come too, as will Fergus and Diarmuid.' The men grunted their approval. 'If my girls are safe and cared for, I shall return to my rath and plot MacHyde's demise. If they are being mistreated in any way by the Greysteinns, I shall kill them myself.'

'I cannot allow that. You will not be welcomed there.' Flynn was resolute. 'Your arrival will be taken as an act of war, unless you can procure the silver as payment. Kristr will not surrender what he believes to be his.'

* * *

As the meal neared its end, Anna felt a little more relaxed. She wasn't sure if it was the two cups of mead she had, the warmth of the fire after seven days at sea, or the light touch of Kristr's hand on the small of her back. She looked across at Catherine, who was beaming and blushing in delight at whatever sweet words Ellrik was whispering in her ear. Anna watched as she playfully smacked his hand away from her breast before leaning in to a lingering kiss. She wondered what would happen to her agreement with Joseph; they would never had shared something so intimate.

The skald stood up to recite the tales of Thor and Odin. With the lilting sounds of his words and the gasps, sighs and laughter of his audience, she cuddled into Kristir's arms as he whispered the translation in her ear, his lips brushing against her skin, his fingers entwining with hers, and closing her eyes dreamily, she felt happier than she had in twelve moons.

As the night came to a close, Kristr picked up a very drowsy Anna. 'Kristr, I can walk, you don't need to carry me like a babe.'

'Ah, but I want to, my sweetling. Now hush and let me keep my promise to care for you.' He carried her back to her chamber and carefully removed her brooches and apron-dress. Gently tugging the woollen dress over her head, it was taking all his self restraint not to start kissing the pristine white mounds of her breasts, her delicate, dusky nipples erect under her shift. He pulled the furs up over her smooth body, and as he gave her a long kiss on her mouth, her lips parted into a sigh and the sound was as sweet as birdsong to his ears.

'Kristr. My sweet. Thank you.'

'Goodnight, darling Anna.' He left the chamber, barely able to walk. It was going to be a long night.

Anna woke up the following morning, feeling rested and content. Stretching out to her full length, she wiggled her fingers and toes in a satisfied yawn. She peeked under the furs and blushed when she saw that she was in nothing but her shift, and remembered that Kristr had undressed her the previous evening. Her first Norse feast. She recalled how she had been so close to him as they listened to the magical stories of the skald, how he carried her to her chamber and how he saw her almost nude.

She jumped out of bed, still only in her knee-length shift, and bending over to pick up her dress off the chest, she spun around and ran into Kristr on his way in. He was naked to the waist and she shrieked when she smacked into his chest face first. She heard him chuckle as the colour rose in her cheeks. She took a step back and stared up at him, her eyes widening as she took in his body.

She had seen boy babies, and small children, but never a man. His shoulders were broad, his arms sculpted with muscle. She felt vulnerable standing looking at him, but had an overwhelming urge to touch his skin, the trail of hair running from his navel to his.. she cast her eyes to the ground in shame of her wantonness, of where her eyes and mind had wandered, biting her lip as she tried to regain her composure.

'Easy, sweetling,' he breathed as he raised her chin with his finger. 'Tis fine.' His thumb moved to her lip. 'Don't bite that lip. You do not know what it does to me.' Releasing it, she looked at the runes inked into his skin on his breast. Placing her hand over the image she let her palm pick up the beating of his heart.

'What does the symbol mean?'

'Grace. My mother's name in Norse.'

'It is beautiful. She is always with you.'

'In death, but not in life.'

'Do you know who took her from you?'

'No. I just remember that he was short, he looked like a barrel with arms and legs, and a greasy head of hair.' He placed his hand over hers, and pulling her close with the other, he bent his forehead to hers so that they touched. 'Dear sweet Anna, I will wait for you for ever.'

She tilted her lips up to his and kissed him like he had the very air she needed to breathe. She was not sure how long she would remain a maiden around this man.


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks again to Dreamsof Valhalla!

And thank you for your comments and for reading. Sounds daft, but you have no idea how inspiring your messages are!

Chapter 9

From the concealment of the souterrain, he stood and watched with interest, scraping his lank hair from his face. In the more than twenty summers since the Vikings had established the settlement of Dubh Linn, the Norsemen had moved from raiders to traders. Only occasionally now did they raid lands, and as was the case today, retribution was their motive. He should know. He led them here, pretending to be a minor chief of the Clan O'Neill intent on waging war. When the Norsemen were finished, he would claim these ravaged lands as his own. And he would kill anyone who dared to stop him.

Grainne had never given him another son, and to punish her for her barreness he took their young boy, her pride and joy, and left him with a cousin in Anglesey, returning to tell her the scraggy mite had fallen overboard and drowned on the journey home. She fought him on a nightly basis as he was determined to sire another son. He overpowered her every time, but she never acquiesed. Now there she was, cowering behind the wall of the O'Neill church as the giant viking strode towards her, his face covered by his helmet, brown hair to his shoulders curling out below the hammered metal. A viking taking her in bloodlust should end her unwillingness to bed him.

His lips curled into a sneer as he watched the giant warrior grab her arm and almost laughed when he heard her cry of pain. Suddenly it all changed. The viking pulled off his helmet, his wild curly brown hair released. Dropping his headgear, he picked Grainne up of the ground, and not resisting, she curled into his broad chest in surrender, as he made his way back to his horse. Shouting to his men in own language, he galloped off with Grainne, still clinging to his tunic.

He shook with rage, his stringy hair falling over his cadaverous face. He looked to his palms where his dirty nails had broken the skin. They would pay.

* * *

'Hello to the hall!' Ellrik's loud voice echoed down the building. Anna jumped out of Kristr's arms, and for the third time since she arose that morning, blushed in embarassment as Ellrik stopped by the curtain of the chamber, leaning on the door frame, arms crossed and smirking like an untried lad. She pushed Kristr away, and yanked the curtain closed as she fumbled around the room, trying to dress herself in the unfamilar garments.

Punching Ellrik's shoulder, Kristr glared at his brother, 'Thor's teeth, Ellrik, has Loki not given your hands enough mischief for one day?' Kristr stomped back to his own chamber and pulled on his undershirt, and lacing up his tunic, then tried discreetly and unsuccessfully, to rearrange himself within his britches.

'That,' Ellrik said, pointing in amusement at his brother's discomfort, 'is Anna's work, not Loki's, nor mine.' Looking out the opening to see if Anna was dressed and ready to face them yet, but not seeing her, said, 'Your heart softens as your cock hardens.' Kristr snorted. 'Tis the way of the world, little brother. Tis the way a woman weaves her spell upon you.'

Pulling on his boots, Kristr glared at his brother, who was still grinning in glee. 'And with your interruptions, I will never find out if she feels the same way. I shall be hard all day.'

Clapping his younger brother on the back, 'Ah, she wasn't fighting your advances. You just need to offer to Freja and she may smooth the path for you.' Calling out loudly to Anna, so as not to cause her further shame, he advised they were all taking their leave to go and break their fast with their parents, and she should follow at her leisure. Kerik had advised that a visitor had arrived whom Kristr and Ellrik would be happy to see.

Crossing the courtyard between the two halls, Anna laughed out loud when she saw Catherine coming dancing towards her. Not only had she fully embraced a Norsewoman's attire, the addition of the hairstyle had turned her from a Celtic woman into a Viking goddess. She was wearing her hair unbound, the long locks brushing over her behind. The wispy tendrils, normally so hard to control, were being held in place by a circlet of silver. The sun rays bounced off the shining piece, bathing Catherine an angelic halo of light.

Linking arms Anna smiled as she listened to Catherine's chatter about the feast, Ellrik and the night they had spent together. Anna stopped dead in her tracks. 'You did not? Did you?' she covered her ears. 'I do not want to know!' Secretly, she did want to know. Anna knew what laying with a man meant, but until recently could not imagine why any sane woman would want to do such a thing.

Catherine just giggled. 'No, we did not. He lay beside me after the feast and I woke up this morning in his arms. If lying with a man as if he were your husband makes me feel that happy, I cannot wait until that day arrives.' Observing again the change in her friend over the past sennight, Anna decided that a lively playful Catherine was much more fun than quiet, dutiful Catherine, who had accepted her fate at such a tender age. As they entered the hall they heard squeals of delight from a young dark haired girl who ran in the direction of Kristr and Ellrik.

She was easily a head and shoulders taller than both Anna and Catherine, a willowy beauty with long, almost black hair flowing behind her and she raced towards the men. 'Ellrik! Kristr! You have come home!' She flung her arms around the neck of each man in turn. 'My brothers have arrived and nobody thought to tell me until this morn!'

Maria Greysteinn was the youngest of the family, and the only sister of Kristr and Ellrik. Kerik had found the newborn infant left to the wolves sixteen summers ago, whilst trading on the east coast, He saw that the girl-child was healthy and could not leave her. All children birthed had to be reconised by their sire, and if the father refused to do so, the child was left to die. At nine winters and eight summers when she arrived, Ellrik and Kristr delighted in the new addition to the family. Maria was lively, intelligent and determined to matchmake for her brothers since she was twelve summers old.

Observing the joy shared between the siblings, Anna felt a pang of envy, as she thought of Joseph. Maria looked from her brothers to the girls, back again and once again started shrieking in glee.

'Oh, what a surprise! Can they speak our language? Of course not! I shall have to teach them!' Running over to Anna and Catherine, her long limbs evident beneath her blue linen dress, Ellrik called out behind her,

'Easy, Maria, you don't want to scare them! It looks like you are attacking with love!' Twirling a stunned Catherine in a hug, she turned her attentions to Anna, who was equally taken aback. Ellrik caught up with his maelstrom of a sister, and placing his hands on her shoulders, addressed Catherine and Anna, 'Ladies, I believe you have met our sister Maria! Sixteen summers old, but with the opinions and interfering nature of a woman three times that age.'

Kristr came up behind Ellrik, and chuckling in Norse, said, 'and don't forget finding you a wife, Ellrik!' She cannot wait to see the keys of the hall hanging from the brooch of her very own sister!' He paused, and switching language, and taking Anna's hand, 'Sweetling, this is my sister Maria. As you can see, she is quite... lively. However she has promised to teach you more of our language, and given her word not to kill you with kindness.' Anna smiled in appreciation. It would be pleasant to have a teacher who did not addle her mind with the thoughts of a shameless hussy.

'Komme,' Maria beckoned them into the main hall. 'Dagmal.' The norse word for breakfast, or Daymeal.

'Breakfast' called Kristr, as the girls followed Maria into the hall. 'I should like it very much if you save me a slice of bread with my eggs and ham.' Anna was unaware of the significance of her actions the previous eve, but for Kristr, the act of a single woman sharing bread with a single man indicated a special relationship. He desperately hoped she felt the same way.

* * *

When they had finished their dagmal, Kristr offered Anna to take her around the steading. Despite spending six moons at sea, Kristr also knew the importance of farming and the protection of his steading. Kerik Greysteinn had not gone a-Viking since Grainne's arrival and Kristr's birth, and the steading thrived on the hard work of the freed men and women, as well as the hird, those who were born free.

Anna walked beside him, listening intently as he described the uses for the different outbuildings, and their words in Norse, mjolk-kot was the word for dairy, ku the word for cow, staebel and hestr meaning stable and horse. Some words did not sound so different, she thought. Kristr explained that although the men were not warriors, Kerik had made it a requirement of all men on the steading to train with the bow, sword and axe. All women were expected to be able to use a dagger blade, and Anna would be no exception.

She watched at his grey eyes brightened to the colour of polished silver as he talked of the steading and his family. The land had access to the fjord, a freshwater river and woods that stretched for a league to the north. Ellrik, she knew, would be the Jarl, and his wife the head of the steading. Perhaps that would be Catherine who would have the keys of the hall, as Ellrik had gently teased Maria earlier. Kristr was not envious of his brother; as second son he had the freedoms to continue as a merchant, but without the responsiblity of over one hundred people as Jarl Kerik did and Jarl Ellrick would.

Anna smiled to herself as she felt Kristr take her hand as they went in the direction of the woods. She did not pull away. They walked in companionable silence for a few minutes, as she thought of her new words, her new life and the new-found confidence in her sister and best friend. Feeling his thumb circling over the fleshy pad of her palm, she felt her heart start to pound, and her breathing quicken.

'Kristr?' she turned to look at him, biting her lip, 'can I ask you a question?'

He looked down to her, partly in amusement, partly in concern. 'Ja, what is it sweetling?' Tugging gently on her lip, he growled softly, 'don't bite that lip.'

'I need to know another Norse word.' Where was she going with this? Her words were innocent but her wide blue eyes spoke of much more intense thought.

'A word?'

'Ja.' She repeated his word for yes; he only ever used the Norse word for that. 'Kiss.'

'Kiss?' he took a deep breath, and wondered where she was going with this conversation. He hoped he was right. 'Kyssa.'

'Kyssa.' She said the word, then whispered it again, her voice getting lower and lower. 'Kyssa, kyssa, kys-sa.'

He bent down toward her, her words pleading with him to kiss her. She looked up into his eyes, reflecting the emotion of her words, and as they moved towards each other, lips parted, she closed her eyes, gave him a firm wanton kiss on the mouth, and giggling, ran away from him. His eyes widened first in shock and then in delight.

He chased after her, allowing her to make some distance whilst she laughed and weaved through the trees in front of him. Catching up with her, he caught her by her wrists, and gently pulling them behind her back, he held them easliy in one hand as he stroked her cheek with the other. Her breathing was heavy, her eyes bright with desire, and she did not resist. Not releasing his grip, he pushed her backward until they were against an old oak tree and they started to kiss with a passion that spoke of much more to come.


	10. Chapter 10

Hi there, hope you all enjoy. I really am trying to develop the characters, but with any luck I'll get there in the end. Thank you so much for reading!

Chapter 10

A year had passed since he saw Grainne leave in the Viking's arms. He howled with rage when news arrived through Dubh Linn that she had bore Kerik Greysteinn a healthy red-headed son. His own undersized black haired boy froze in fear at his father's bellow. Grabbing the frail boy and shaking him he yelled into the lad's pale face,

'Your mother did not love you! She hated the sight of you because you are short and feeble, not broadchested like me! She ran away with a Norseman!' He shook him again and the boy whimpered in pain and fear.

'I will seek revenge on her, her lover and her bastard child. As my only son and heir, 'twill be your revenge too, do you understand me?' The child nodded, too frightened to wipe the spittle from his father's rage off his face. His father released his grasp, and the boy slid to the floor and curled into a ball, crying for a mother who did not love him. 'Do not mourn her! She does not mourn you!' The man stormed out of the room. His son shared his features, he would also share his character.

* * *

Anna never had believed that a kiss could feel like this. Before Kristr, a kiss was on the cheek, a goodnight wish for a peaceful slumber. This was not the pure gesture of a father to his only daughter. This was the kiss of longing, of lust, of love.

His mouth covered hers, exploring her sweet innocent pout, gently nipping at her lips. The wanting, needing, the desire in his embrace overwhelming her rational thought as she parted her lips, his tongue invading her mouth and dancing with hers as she returned the emotion he shared with her. Releasing her hands, she moaned softly as one palm moved over her shoulders, down to her breast, whilst the other cupped and stroked her behind. Her eyes flew open, bringing her back to the woods and reality.

'Kristr, stop.' She went to push him away, even more confused in her mind. Her brain was addled. 'I... I cannot.'

His hands moved to the tree trunk, bracing his body away from hers, only their foreheads touching. His breathing shallow and harsh, 'Anna.'

This was the man who abducted her from her home, but who saved her from a marraige to a slimy toad. The man who had bound her like a slave, but now treated her like a princess. The man whose actions with his fair haired brother had led to her best friend being genuinely happy in four summers. The man who did not force her onto his furs. The man who, who made her feel that there was more to life than the sheltered world of the rath.

The man who believed her value was in silver.

'I... I'm still your captive.' Her eyes fixed on the ground. He might have dressed up her stay her as one of a guest, and she had been beginning to believe it herself, as she felt herself increasingly attracted to Kristr. 'When your silver arrives you will release me, and... and I will go back to my father. Your plan will have been complete and I...' She could not give her thoughts voice. She could not consider her future without the this flame-haired viking in her life.

Kristr turned away, running his hands through his hair. 'Anna.' Her name like a prayer on his lips, an offering to Freja. Falling for the delicate Irish maiden was not part of his plan, but he was falling in love with this woman.

The woman who did not fight him, as she saw her friend unconscious. The woman who sparred insults with him, unafraid. The woman who held her head high as a queen when Helgena had her dressed as a thrall. The woman who cuddled into him as she listened to the skald, entranced by his words.

The woman who ruined his plans. The woman whose value was priceless. The woman for whom he would give up all the gold and silver in the world.

'Anna.' He offered her his hand. What could he say or do now? He would not take her against her will. She accepted his gesture and they walked silently back to the steading.

They were greeted by a now familiar squeal. 'Hej! Kristir eda Anna!' Maria bounded up towards them, grinning in amusement as she eyed their hand holding, and Anna's pink lips, still swollen and reddened from their tryst in the woods . 'What have I missed?'

'Maria!' Kristr muttered in exasperation. What was it that his family could not have the manners to ignore his blundering attempts at a romance with Anna? He turned to Anna. There was no need to translate Maria's smirk or question.

Maria waved her willow basket at Anna. She was training to be a healer and was going to look for plants. Bringing Anna with her would be a good opportunity to both teach her some more words and to see how her actions betrayed her feelings to Kristr. Maria was no fool, and having spent the previous four summers seeking a wife for her brother, she needed to confirm if Anna could be the one. 'Bingr.' She waved the basket at the Anna. 'Anlegg.' She pointed to the woods, and took Anna's arm, linking together.

'She wants to take you to the woods to look for plants that help in her healing potions,' Kristr explained, as Anna gave him a quizzical look, 'and she wants to teach you more words. But she promises not to suffocate you with her enthusiasm.' He laughed, shook his head and waved them off, happy to see Anna turn around and gave him a shy smile. He watched as Maria led Anna in a skip, her brown braid bouncing with the motion. Another long hard day was ahead of him, as he headed to the fields. He needed to speak with his father.

'Aha, Kristr-sonr! You have decided to join us in some work on the land!' Kerik shouted to his son.

'No, Fadir,' Ellrik yelled, 'he has just smelled the fresh ale that my beloved has brought.' He waved to Catherine as she went in the direction of the steading, and still yelling, 'Thank you sweetling! Save me your trencher for the natmal.'

'Sonr, I do not think any man on the steading would dare to even look at your Catherine at the evening meal. The doe eyes you make at each other make your intentions clear.' Kerik had given his permission for Ellrik to take Catherine as his concubine, but not as his wife. Not until the terms of the ransom had been met.

Kristr sat down beside his father and brother. He picked up an axe and idly started swinging the blade toward the chopping block, pulling the tool back out with a slight tug. The only sound from the trio was the thud of the strike and the squeak of retreat, increasing in sound as the blade cut deeper into the wood fibres. Ellrik picked up a empty leather bucket, and took his leave to water the plough-oxen.

'I have to take her home, Fadir.'

'Yester-eve, you said were falling in love with her. I do not believe you to be so fickle.' Kerik knew his son well, and tolerating plans that went awry were not in Kristr's nature.

'I know. But she has a pure heart. I have treated her as if she were a game piece in tafl. I believe she shares my feelings but her circumstances of her arrival here are still raw.' Kristr knew the reddened marks caused by binding her had faded, but her hurt at his taking her from her father was as fresh as an open wound.

'Mayhap, but you have saved her from a marraige with MacHyde.' Kerik knew who Jack MacHyde's sire was, and although he was no longer a warrior, he would gladly run through the pudgy deceiving scoundrel, or any kin of his. 'Do you believe that if you returned her to RathSteele, he would not demand that the marriage contract be renewed? You know as well as I do the same son-of-a-murderer would storm her father's lands, kill all the men with paid mercenaries and take her as his wife.'

Kristr paled at his father's harsh words. He did not know why Kerik spoke with such vitriol over MacHyde, and his sire, Hyde. But whilst he trusted his father's guidance, he wanted Anna to be happy.

'Son, I will give you a suggestion. After Flynn meets with you, you may take Anna to visit her father, and provide assurances that she is well. However, I will only grant this boon if Anna agrees that she will return with you until the terms of her ransom are met. Bind her to you again if you must. She is still your hostage.' Kerik paused. Kristr did not need the silver, but if he let his son behave like a love-sick puppy, his honour amongst his own kind would be crushed. Trying to soften his firm judgement on the matter, he continued,

'I believe that she cares for you. I am not an old blind Jarl who cannot see what happens in his hall or his woods.' His lip twitched in amusement at his son's face. 'Nei, 'tis not what you think. The woods hold many secrets told by many young lovers.' Ruffling his son's hair as if he were a boy, Kerrik stood up. 'She is in conflict with her feelings, but let her find her way to you. Bride stealing is as old as Odin himself, and many a fine match has been made this way. Be patient.'

Patience was not necessarily a quality Kristr had in barrelfuls at the moment. Following his father to the oxen, he picked up the plough to turn the soil. The hard work would make him sweat and would take his mind off Anna, and wrapping his hand around her braid whilst she wrapped herself around him. He let a long low growl and barked at the oxen to move forward.

* * *

Anna found Maria's good nature infectious. The younger woman was determined to have her learn as many words as possible, and continued to test her knowledge as they walked around the edges of the woods. Anna reflected that Maria may be training as a healer, but would have made an excellent educator, with her gentle persistence and patience. Maria, pointing out objects insisted that Anna repeat the word three times, and after learning another five words, would return to those she had been taught earlier in the day. The language was coming slowly but the jester in Maria had Anna in fits of giggles at her visual impressions of her family; Kerik's booming voice, Ellrik's ridiculous manners and Kristr's obsession with his hair, and the arching quizzical eyebrows beloved of all three men.

Catherine would have gently chided Anna for such mischief making in the past, but now she would probably throw herself into Maria's antics with glee. She wonderered where her friend was today. Pulling on Maria's sleeve, taking her attention from her theatrics, she asked 'Catherine?'

Maria thought for a moment. 'Cat-her-ine. Med Madir.' With Mother. She acted as if she were kneading bread. 'Brauthgorth.' Anna did not know the word but it was clear that Catherine was obviously taking her her immersion into Nordic life seriously, if she were joining Gertrude in the kitchens. Perhaps she would not feel so conflicted about her head and her heart if she embraced the next year of her life with the same determination as Catherine.

Lifting Maria's basket, she picked up each tiny plant, and named them correctly, blushing under Maria's approval of her tutelage. She managed her first halting sentence in Norse. 'We go back to hall.' Maria hugged her, squealed in approval, and swinging the basket in the crook of her arm, they followed the path back to the buildings.

Maria pointed beyond the stable to the fields, and Anna saw the trio working, with another dozen or so of the men involved in various chores in the process of ploughing and clearing the land. As they approached the men, Anna watched as Kristr pulled off his tunic, exposing his muscled flesh, the sun catching the beads of sweat on his forehead. She chewed her lip furiously, not knowing whether to stare and be caught, or look away and reject the sight of the man who was addling her brain and her belly. Maria squeezed her hand, and kissed her on the cheek. 'Vaenn.' Handsome. Looking at Maria, she nodded as Kristr caught her eye and, pulling out of the yoke of the ox-plough, walked over to the girls.

Brushing the mud off his hands, he put his thumb to her mouth. 'Anna, do not bite that lip!' Releasing her delicate pink lip, she could not help but brush her hand over the runes on Kristr's breast. She felt him flinch at her touch, but he did not move away. Blue eyes stared deep into grey.

Maria giggled at the grubby hands of her brother and the soft gasp of Anna. 'Brother, when will you and she give your intentions? Between you and Ellrik I nearly have two sisters but not one is confirmed. Doe eyes and hand holding is for the skalds!'

Closing his eyes, and silently wondering why this daughter of Loki was tormenting him, he turned to his sister, 'and since when has learning the power of healing given you the power of second sight? Meddlesome wench!' Maria only laughed at him. It did not take a soothsayer to see how his brother felt about Anna, and she about him. She would just have to wait until they saw Freja's path for them. And she would need Catherine's help.

Maria led Anna to the bakery where they discovered a sweating Catherine, kneading bread before shaping it and passing it to Gertrude for baking in the stone oven. She waved at the pair, brushing her flour covered hands on her apron. Calling to her mother, Maria and Gertrude exchanged a short conversation, that ended with Gertrude gesturing in approval.

'Komme, Cat-her-ine, Anna.' The syllables of Catherine's name still unfamilar on Maria's tongue. She motioned that they should follow her. 'Svet-kot.' Sweat House. Anna looked at her sister and shrugged. Time with Maria so far had been fun. She did not imagine Maria had an afternoon of work ahead of them.

Opening the door to the small windowless room, Maria lit the fish oil lamps. Adjusting her eyes to the light, Anna could see a shallow pit, like a small hearth sunken into the ground. There were benches on both sides of the room, and to the back there were barrels, the light of the lamps casting yellowing lines over the rippling waves of water they contained. Maria bent over to light the fire, and surrounded it with fist sized stones. She started to take off her apron and linen dress and indicated that the others should do the same. Folding her clothes and placing them neatly on the floor she laughed as she saw the others standing in their shifts. 'Nei!' she said with humour, as she tugged on the hem. 'Svet-kot.'

Anna still found the nudity strange. She had barely seen herself in the nude in her eighteen summers, never mind Catherine or Maria, who she had known for all of half a day. Yielding to Maria's murmurs of encouragement she gave in, and put her folded clothes with the others. The dry heat from the fire gave way to damp warmth as Maria added water to the hot stones, causing them to sizzle and splutter, beads of water dancing on their surface before disappearing. They sat back and felt the steam open their pores and Anna relaxed onto the bench, her memory of Kristr's naked torso causing her skin to tingle in delight, the tickle of the beads of sweat adding to her already heightened desires she felt within. Her daydream was broken by a knock at the door, with Gertrude, who entered with two kind faced serving women, bearing clean linens and clothing.

An older woman washed Anna's hair with a cake of scented soap, and drying her carefully helped her into a clean shift, blue dress and cream-coloured apron, sighing in approval as she finished dressing her by fastening the brooches. Anna went to braid her still-damp hair, but Gertrude interjected. The bone comb she used easily removed all tangles, and with Maria's help dressed Anna's beautiful shiny hair into narrow braids at the the temples, and wove them into a circlet like the one Catherine had worn that morn. Handing her a polished plate, she looked at her reflection, her hair flowing down her back, cheeks flushed from the heat of the steam room and her dream. Maria gave a squeal of delight at her handiwork. Her brother would soon be as content as Ellrik.

Gertude gave Maria a long look. 'Kommen dottiren, Natmal.' Maria looked down and smiled to herself. Anna and Catherine might not realise that Gertrude had called them her daughters as she led them to the hall for the evening meal.


	11. Chapter 11

Warning – chapter contains some wording and actions, literary licence taken for the era of the story, unacceptable in modern society.

Oh, and lemons!

Thank you to ER and DreamsofValhalla - for putting up with me :)

Chapter 11

Twelve years since Grainne left. Eleven years planning his revenge. The deed was done. He had finished the bitch as she tried to protect her son. The lad had her hair, but his grey eyes could not conceal the fact that Kerik Greysteinn was his sire. The boy was so shocked he could not even understand his mother's words, even as she gave him the name of her killer. She had recognised him, he knew it. It did not matter now. She was dead and the child was as good as gone. It was time to celebrate with his son. Jack was finally becoming a man following in his father's own image and actions.

His hand came down with a satisfying smack on her rounded rump. Again, again. She did not cry out, as he yanked her by her long blonde braids, arching her back as he ground roughly against her, his still-black hair swinging over his face with each coarse thrust. Spilling his seed, he stood over her grunting, his gnarled black fingers ugly against the golden plaited hair of the woman lying prostrate below him.

He ran a filthy ridged fingernail down her spine. The woman of many secrets had arrived again in Dubh Linn a fortnight ago, this time with several young men almost half her age.

'What brings you here this season?'

'My fosterlings need to see life outside the north. Since men no longer go a-Viking, they need to learn of life beyond fishing and farming.'

'And what else do they learn of at your hands?' He smirked.

'Discipline. Bedsport. Respect. To be the masters of their world.' The second sons of Jarls had a different path in life, much more fluid than that of their elder brothers. She trained them well for success in adulthood, and the Jarls appreciated her taking these boys of twelve summers and turning them into men over the seasons, returning them to their families by the time they reached ten-and-seven.

She was waiting for her next fosterling. Kerik Greysteinn made a concubine of her younger sister, Gertrude, a life of comfort and plenty that should have been hers. Thirteen summers and the bitterness at his rejection had not softened. She could not foster his first born, but she would take very good care of his much-loved second boy. Word had it that he and his mother had been in Dubh Linn with Kerik to attend one of their ridiculous Christian pilgrimages when she had been ambushed and killed. She wished it had been Gertrude who died, lying bleeding with a sword through her heart.

He broke her fantasy. 'Perhaps you could take my son into your foster care? He still has a lot to learn. Discipline and respect have been managed most effectively by me, and he already is showing the skills of a fine merchant and trader. Perhaps bedsport could be taught by you? He has passed ten-and-six summers and I know he has not lain with a woman.' He scraped his dirty nails idly as he discussed his son's virginity.

She turned over on the bed and laughed, playing with her braids, brushing the tails over her breasts, watching as her nipples peaked. 'No. I only foster pure viking sons. Occasionally a clever half-breed will be welcomed.' She had one in her care at the moment, a quiet, reflective boy, with a Irish sire and Norse mother, who listened to all and gave away nothing. She was teaching him to travel between the worlds of his parents. When Greysteinn's boy arrived, that would be two. Enough mixed blood for anyone.

She stood up from the bed and washed her face and hands in a basin of water. 'Bring your son to me on the morrow.' She dried herself with a linen cloth, and with a regal flourish threw it aside. 'Shall we see if he shares his father's tastes?'

He scraped his greasy hair back into a leather tie, and gave a mock bow. 'As you wish, Helgena.'

* * *

Maria could barely conceal her delight at the transformation of Anna, with her mother's help. This pair were not going to make a suitable match without her assistance.

As the three young women entered the hall, led by Gertrude, Anna heard the appreciative murmurs of the assembly. She looked up to see Kristr's grey eyes staring down the hall in appreciation. He stood to allow her access to the bench, his hand brushing against the small of her back as she sought her balance on the narrow seat.

She looked up at him shyly. 'Maria and your mother washed me, and dressed my hair in a Norse style. Do you like it?'

He smoothed his hands over the waves. 'I like it very much. 'Tis exquisite bound or loose.' Her hair was beautiful. If she were his wife, she would be required to cover it, a married woman's husband being the only person allowed to see her hair unbound, her head uncovered. He longed to be that person, that husband. When he spoke with Flynn and took her to see her father, he would ask permission.

As the meal progressed, and the conversation moved around the table, Maria whispered to Kristr. 'Brother, I need your help.' He narrowed his eyes in amusement. If there was one woman on the Greysteinn steading who did not need help, it was Maria, the Maker of Mischief. He decided to humour her.

'Help? How can I be of assistance, you helpless daughter of Loki?'

She smirked at his friendly sarcasm. 'As you know, Anna is learning our language. I need to say something to her in her own tongue, and you can translate for me.'

'What do you want to say to her?'

'I want her to know she can trust me. Give me the words for "Trust me".'

'Sister, I do not know of what you scheme, but the words you seek are: "Chur do mhuinin ionam".' Put your trust in me. Kristr knew his sister was plotting, no doubt his match with Anna, but with a kiss on the cheek and a thank you, she repeated the words and bounced off. He caught Ellrik's eye and shook his head. Ellrik shrugged, obviously not part of Maria's current endeavours. Kristr knew Maria and knew that whatever she had planned for him, Ellrik's fate would not be far behind in their sister's meddlesome ways.

As the meal came to an end, Anna gave a small yawn, and immediately Maria was by her side. 'Kristr, Anna is tired. Tell her that I will take her and help her a-bed.' She turned to Anna, and back to Kristr smiling sweetly.

He gave an exaggerated sigh. 'Anna, sweetling, Maria feels that you are tired this eve and she has offered to help you to your chamber. Do you wish her to assist you?'

Anna looked to Maria who nodded excitedly. 'Oh, I am a little tired this evening Kristr, but do you promise to come in and wish me good night before you retire?'

'Of course. I will not be long' He kissed her cheek. He wanted to wish her a much more than a good night.

Anna could not understand Maria's enthusiasm for helping another woman to bed. As they entered Kristr's hall, she took a taper from the smouldering hearth and lit a lamp as they went into Anna's chamber. Maria lit three more lamps within the room, bathing it in warm flickering light. She helped Anna undress, not tolerating the smaller woman's reluctance at the removal of her thin linen shift.

As she covered Anna with a soft seal fur, Anna frowned as she heard Maria speak in her own tongue. 'Put your trust in me.' Why would she say that?

'Ja.' Anna answered in Norse, confused.

Maria squealed, jumped on top of her and looping a piece of linen around one of Anna's wrists, then the other, she bound her hands, securing it to a large stone under the bed frame. Anna twisted in outrage at her predicament, the fur slipping off her nude body, whilst Maria smiled in approval. She placed a finger on Anna's lips. 'Put your trust in me,' Maria whispered again as she rearranged the fur to protect Anna's modesty. She gave her a kiss on the cheek and waved good night, leaving Anna alone with her humiliating thoughts of Maria's mischief and how easily she was overpowered by the younger, but much taller woman. What was Kristr going to say when he saw her like this?

Kristr walked into the room and saw a wide-eyed Anna on her bed, her breaths coming in short sharp pants. Maria, he thought. It was obvious that Anna was naked, beneath the fur, scared to move too much lest the fur slide off and expose her to his ravenous eyes. Her hands were loosely tied, but the knot was secure.

In her previous attempts to wriggle free from Maria's bonds, Anna was aware that the fur had moved a little around her legs, exposing her pale skin, slim ankles and calves to Kristr. He licked his lips as her looked at her as she tried not to writhe under his gaze.

'Kristr! Maria brought me here! She told me to trust her, and now look at me! I am trussed!' she gave a half laugh half sob at her situation and her play on words.

He sat on the linen chest. 'She told me she left me a gift in my chamber, twas not what I was expecting, but much better.' As he moved towards her, Anna felt her heart beat faster and her womb tighten. She started to bite her lip in anticipation, but of what she was not sure. Kristr had promised never to take her against her will, and now she was willing in heart, soul and body. Her skin tingled as she looked up at him. He hadn't so much as touched her and she felt like she was going to explode.

'Easy, sweetling. He brushed his thumb accross her trapped lip and she released it, her lips parting as she held his gaze. He sat on the edge of the bed and caressed her cheek, as she rubbed against her his hand like a kitten looking for attention, pouting when he stopped. He gave her a chaste kiss on her open mouth, chuckling at her moan when he moved away.

'What is the matter my sweet little one? I am very happy with the gift left for me by Maria, perhaps I should feast my eyes on you a little longer before I remove the wrapping.'

Her voice filled with longing as she tugged on her bonds, and twisted, the silky silver fur having no purchase on her smooth skin, falling a little more, showing her slender thighs. 'Kristr! Please!'

'What do you want?'

'You.' The one word he wanted to hear.

He removed his tunic, and bent over to release her, helping her to sit up on the bed. She blushed as she draped the fur around her shoulders to cover her breasts. Taking her hair, he smoothed and braided it, curling his fist around the plait, running his hand along the length.

Turning around, she supported herself on his muscled arms, running her hands down to his, and entwining her fingers with hers, she pulled herself towards him, raising her head offering her mouth to his. She closed her eyes and felt his warm lips brush gently over hers.

'Anna.' His prayer. 'Look at me.' As he lost himself in her eyes, the blue barely visible over her dilated pupils. He was conscious of her trembling below him, but it was not the shiver of fear.

'Close your eyes.' As she obeyed, he kissed her eyelids, her nose, touching her lips lightly before pressing into a firmer kiss. Laying her back on the bed, the fur fell away and he surveyed every curve of her body, golden in the lamp light. She moved to cover her breasts and mons with her hands in shame as he caressed her body with those grey eyes, smouldering with want. He pushed her hands away.

'Nei, Anna, I want to look at you in all your beauty.' As she giggled nervously in embarassment she went to cover herself again, but Kristr gently took her wrists, and holding her arms to her side he started to kiss her neck, her breastbone, sucking gently on her rosebud nipples. She gasped at the unfamilar sensations, differing emotions rising within her, her back arching, pushing herself toward him.

He moved down her belly, licking, nipping, kissing as he reached her mound, the soft curls leading to secret entrance. She whimpered as he kissed her thighs, easing her legs apart, murming in Norse. The words were unknown to her, but their sound no longer seemed harsh.

'Easy, sweetling,' she barely heard his words as his tongue began to lap at the nectar of her womanhood. Laving on her sweet bud, she moaned out in confusion and passion, feeling the tension rising within her womb as he continued his ministrations, one hand stroking and kneading her sweet behind, the other caressing her breast. Twisting her fingers into his auburn hair she cried as she felt her release, the waves of passion continuing as he worshipped her belly and hips with his mouth.

She gasped as he stood up to remove his breeches, and she saw him proud and erect above her. She had seen boy babies, but nothing like this. She could never accomodate anything of that size. Her eyes widened at the length and girth of a fully grown man.

He sensed her fear, at her first view of a man filled wtih longing, he ran his hands down the sides of her body, delighting in the feel of her sensuous curves. He hissed, breathing in sharply as he felt her take him in her hands, her innocent exploring touch making his desire rise beyond anything he had felt before.

'I will be gentle, all will be well.' Bracing his body over hers, he leant in to kiss her, his mouth and tongue caressing her lips, his shaft reflecting the movements of his mouth as he sought her warm welcoming entrance. He paused as he savoured the sensation of being with a maiden. She gave a small mewl as he entered her, her cry louder as he felt the breach of her maidenhead. He stilled as her velvet folds adjusted to his size. Looking into her eyes he saw her desire for him. This would not last long. He began to thrust, her warmth welcoming him, the rhythm of her hips meeting his.

Tears of pleasure blinded her, as she felt her bliss climb once again. She pulled him into her, her legs curling around his, her hands clasping at his back and as he gave a final thrust, he felt the ripples of her pleasure collide with his as they locked in the lovers' embrace, sealing their union.


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you very much for your comments and reviews, with St Patrick's Day coming up, and a holiday, I might get a chance to put some meat on this story's bones!

Chapter 12

Jack MacHyde loved being a trader, sailing from Dubh Linn, from the warm dry lands of Byzantium, the crossroads of East and West, to the cold bustling port of Hedeby, up and down the rivers of Europe. He earned his coin by trade and trickery, deals and deception. There was always ways to cheat an extra scrap of silver out of the transactions. There were suspicions around him, but none could confirm his underhandedness. His sire had taught him well, but had become complacent; two years ago when he was a score in age his father had been found with a blade in his heart, the hilt of the dagger removed. No evidence of his killer, a rival merchant suspected of the deal.

Slouching down on the dais, he eyed the interaction between Helgena and the boy, barely a young man, envy and jealousy eating at him like lye. The fosterling was distinctive in features, with his red hair, tall frame and eyes as stormy grey as the north sea, and it was evident that Helgena favoured him in her teachings publicly and in the hall, and privately in her chamber. A sharp pain seized his hand, as he looked down and saw the trickle of blood caused by his fingernails puncturing his flesh.

He had lain with Helgena often since she had taken him as an untried youth. The Shetland Jarlshof had been a familiar stop over the past number of summers, and he was welcomed with open arms, and legs. Other women were not as willing in bed-sport as Helgena, and he had to use other methods of persuasion to have them comply, normally his fists and his strength. But today Helgena only had time for Kristr Greysteinn, and he would eventually rid the world of his rival.

* * *

Anna woke up, the feel of Kristr's even breathing warm on her neck. Her cheeks pinked as she thought of the previous eve, and how Maria had left her bound and helpless on the bed for Kristr. Perhaps this was a Norse tradition, but more likely the actions of a playful younger sister used to getting her own way. Without wakening Kristr, she tried to move onto her side, her muscles stiff from unfamiliar use. Relaxing her head into the crook of her arm, she watched him sleep, her eyes roaming down his body, over his muscular chest, studying the beautiful outline of his tattoo, down the fine trail of hair to his navel, stopping as she saw his shaft, rising again. She held her breath as she watched, as if it had a life of its own.

'Curious, Sweetling?' Kristr opened one eye and looked up at her, smirking at her stunned expression. 'I trust you slept well, as I did.' He followed her gaze to his now near fully erect cock, saluting them proudly. 'Tis the effect you have on me in the morning.' Or afternoon. Or evening. He reached up and tugged her half-done braid, wispy and fuzzy from the lovemaking of the previous eve.

She clamped her hands over her face, peeking out between her fingers, 'I slept well, considering, considering I'm such a hussy!' How could she face Maria today? Or Catherine? Or Gertrude?

Chuckling softly, he prised her fingers from her face, 'Maybe, but you are my hussy. I could have you warm my furs every day and night.' Mesmerised by the unfamiliar view in front of her, she continued to stare; in the cool morning light he looked even bigger than the night before. He rolled over to kiss her, and she giggled, as she feigned an innocent struggle, before returning his embrace. 'Come here, little sweet,' he pulled her back onto the bed as he gave a mock growl, 'I need to feel my little hussy, my greedy little piglet, again.' She laughed in approval, thinking of his first name for her on the boat. He paused, 'Are you sure, you might feel a little tender this morn.'

'I am fine. Mayhap a little sore, but nothing that some more lovemaking with a fine Nordic Viking cannot remedy.'

Giving a squeal of delight that Maria would have been proud of, he tugged her ankles, sliding her down the bed. 'Now let me see what I can do to help you overcome your current ailment!'

She must have fallen asleep again, as she woke up to hearing Kristr shuffling about the hall. She looked at the tell tale sign of her purity on the silky sealskin fur that was now folded neatly on the chest. She blushed as she realised it was he who had tidied the chamber.

She tiptoed out from behind the curtain to see a blazing hearth and a tub of warm water, the steam rising in curls to the ceiling. A trencher of bread, cheese and ham was sitting on the bench, with a jug of buttermilk.

'Come, let me care for you, lest Maria return and demand to carry out the duty whilst she questions you on our activities of yester-eve!' Holding her hands, he helped her into the tub as the water lapped over her skin. Taking a cloth, he rubbed her skin in soft gentle circles, his eyes never leaving contact with hers. He cupped the warm water in his hands as he rinsed her body, washing away her virginal life, cleansing her of her own perceived sin of wantonness.

Carefully wrapping her in a soft clean linen, he led her back to the chamber, and laid her on the bed. A sensuous aroma filled the air as he uncorked a small vial of oil. She inhaled deeply. 'This is oil of rose, from Babylon,' he whispered, as he anointed her pale skin, massaging her lean muscles, worshipping her external beauty with his hand and eyes, her internal grace with his heart and soul. She may be his hostage in the eyes of both Irish and Norse law, but he was imprisoned to her now in love. No amount of silver would meet that ransom.

Only after he had felt he had come some way into treating her as the goddess she was to him, did he help her into her clothes, and take her to the main hall where they could finally break their fast. She cut the food up in to small pieces, and taking a morsel of bread and ham and a small slice of cheese, she fed Kristr slowly, lovingly, taking the same care in giving him his meal as he had just lavished on her.

The sensuousness silence was broken by the now-familiar squeal of Maria as she bounced down the hall. Swinging Anna in her arms she put her down as she gave Kristr a long look. 'Oh do tell! Did you? Did you?' looking from Kristr to Anna to Kristr she squealed again. 'You did! I'm going to have a sister!' She called to Catherine who was standing quietly by the entrance 'Cath-erine! Come here!' She playfully punched her brother's shoulder, 'Soon I shall have two sisters!'

'Maria!' Kristr called in exasperation! 'You have meddled enough! Leave us be, you silly girl lest I find you a husband, should there be a poor man fool enough to marry you!' Maria gave a mock pout. 'Stop spoiling my fun! I have been waiting so long to see you happy!'

The quiet bubble of their lovers' time was now well and truly burst, as reality came flooding back to Anna. There were no regrets from her time with Kristr, but there may be some awkward conversations ahead, as her time on the steading was still marked as that of a hostage.

'We shall have to face your parents eventually, Kristr.'

'I know. I am surprised that my father has not already arrived here. I am quite sure Maria has informed the entire steading.' He loved his sister dearly, but her exuberance and enthusiasm for life would try the patience of even the hermit monks from Ireland.

Anna decided it was time that she followed Catherine's lead, and take part in the running of the steading. She was not sure what her standing would be. Catherine was accepting of her concubine status here. Was she one now too? What would the Christian priest at St Aonghus think of her ruination, and did she even care at the moment. The Greysteinn steading may as well be on the moon, she was so far from home.

She stood up. 'I shall ask Gertrude what I can do. I'm a very good seamstress, and on RathSteele I wove some of the finest cloth within four leagues,' the pride evident on her face.

'Maybe you were, and I am quite sure Gertrude will be delighted to have your skills put to use, but today I would like to start teaching you how to use a dagger. Twill give you some defence against raiders and marauders.'

She paled. Marauders? Did these Vikings raid each other? Sensing her fear, he smoothed his finger over the lines on her forehead. 'Shhh, no lines. It is a very rare occurrence, but all men and women should have at least the means to protect themselves enough to flee to safety.'

Looking into his eyes, she thought of their first encounter and the blazing fury, now twinkling silver, which had met her that day. 'Would a dagger have stopped you?'

Pausing as he considered her words, 'Nei, it would not have stopped me, but tell me this, what would have been your choice, to fight and fail and know you did everything in your power to protect yourself, or not fight at all, and surrender in anger and frustration at your lack of skill?' She could not argue with that, as she thought of the fear and fury she had felt when she had no control over her own life. Decisions in her life had been made by men. This man was offering a choice.

'When can we start?'

* * *

Kristr found his father with the blacksmith, assisting the giant smithy as he sweated and pounded on a white hot lump of metal, the clanging loud and abrasive on his ears after the calming morning he had experienced with Anna. 'May I speak with you Fadir?'

Kerik pulled off the heavy leather apron protecting his tunic and skin from the heat. 'I believe you have some news to share with me, my son.' Kristr rolled his eyes. Maria. There were no secrets on the steading when she was in residence.

'Ja, Fadir. It is true.' He needed say no more.

'She is still your hostage. What are your intentions?' Kerik had to remind his son that surrendering the ransom price was not an option. He would never be respected as a merchant again, despite how noble the action may have felt. 'I have not changed my mind from our previous discussions. You may take her to see her father, but without silver, she must return here until four seasons have passed. Then, and only then when she becomes your property rather than your hostage, can you free her, and take her as your concubine or wife.' Kristr had no option but to agree with his father. The terms were harsh, but it was he who had set the original plan in motion, not his sire.

'What status may she have on the steading?'

'Her status remains that of your hostage. She will be cared for, and protected, but she will not have the rights that Catherine now enjoys.' It was not easy to treat his beloved second son in this way, given that he had brought an Irish woman into his own life a score and three years ago. For his son's sake, he sincerely hoped that the silver would not be sourced by Anna's menfolk.

Anna found Catherine in the kitchen again, not breadmaking this time, but learning from Gertrude how to prepare the stew for the dinner, grinning in delight each time she said a word correctly. She called to her friend, and both women looked up from their chopping. Catherine dropped her cutting knife and ran to her friend.

'Have I heard correctly?' she giggled as Anna blushed. Her language skills were developing much faster than Anna's and she had a fairly good understanding of what Maria had been up to the night before.

'Aye, 'tis true. I suppose I am a woman now.'

'We are both women.' Catherine smiled shyly at Anna. After hearing of Maria's antics, she had taken it upon herself to throw caution to the wind and herself at Ellrik the previous eve. And, because news had not yet reached Maria's ears, their bed play was not the talk of the steading. They hugged in a long embrace, lost in their thoughts of their previous life.

'What of Joseph and your agreement?' Catherine sighed. It was never her agreement, or Joseph's. It was an arrangement made when they were children. 'I do not know. But I love Joseph like a brother. I hope he will understand. He has the right to meet a woman who will love him as a husband.'

Their chattering was interrupted by a soft coughing from Gertrude. She stroked each girl's cheek, murmuring softly in her own language. Anna turned to Catherine, and whispered 'What does she say?'

Catherine looked up at Gertrude, her eyes shining with joy. 'Dottir. She calls us Daughter.'

Gertrude's other daughter ran into the kitchen, wide-eyed and breathless. 'There's a ship coming through the fjord, it has been sighted by Taylr, and the sail does not bear our colours!'

Anna did not know whether her heart leapt or her stomach sank. What of her and Kristr?


	13. Chapter 13

Thank you for reading and your PMs! I never thought that anyone would be interested in my take on FSOG, but hey, it's nice to know I'm not alone :-)

**some mild lemon pie ahead**

* * *

Chapter 13

He was finishing his supper in his hall, just outside Dubh Linn. Sucking the last strand of meat from between his teeth, he drained his cup of mead, before hurling the goblet at the hound, which jumped and yelped in fear. How dare Kristr Greysteinn take Anna of RathSteele. She was his; her father had agreed upon it. She was comely enough, and would have been useful to bear sons, until she died from childbirth or exhaustion. Now Raymond of RathSteele was without a daughter, thanks to Greysteinn, and he knew he had confirmed his own guilt when he admitted that he had been trading with Kristr. He sneered as he thought of Anna's men folk, preventing him from landing at their rath. No doubt they would nobly try to avenge her abduction. And fail. When they were dead, he would take her again, and her lands.

In his red mist of fury he did not see the hooded figure gliding towards him, up the length of the hall. He drew his dagger, shouting for his serving maid. Where was that useless Lisbeth? If this figure wanted some pleasures of the flesh, he'd happily throw Lisbeth to them if it saved his coin. He had his pleasure from her many times already.

As the figure drew closer to him, he finally caught a glimpse of blonde braid and his lips curled into an evil smile.

'Well, my Valkryie, what brings you here, far over the waves? Where are your little group of fosterlings?' He looked to the door, expecting to see a skinny half grown man-boy following her like a puppy. 'Have some mead, I'm sure you will find it soothing after your travels.' He waved the earthenware jar, sloshing the contents onto the floor.

She snorted in disgust. Pulling her hood down and fixing it about her shoulders, she glared 'I'm here alone.' She had to travel fast, and the tides were favourable down the channel. 'And I need your assistance.' She lifted the horn of light golden liquid he had poured and raised it in toast.

'Really?' This woman rarely needed the aid of anyone. 'And how may I assist you Helgena? Does the Valkryie require a fine red-blooded man to warm her furs?'

Helgena scowled. The truth stung and MacHyde was not the man who she wanted in her bed. 'Hardly. I need you to procure me a woman.' His eyes widened, then narrowed. She had never expressed an interest in women before. 'And not just any woman.'

His interest was piqued. What kind of woman would Helgena want, and why? 'I did not realise you had such, ah, particular tastes, Valkryie.'

'I want Kristr Greysteinn's woman. I want to teach him a lesson. And, I want you to get her for me.'

He jumped up and grabbing her by the nape of her neck, he held his dagger to her throat. 'I do not know what game you play with me, but I am not amused.' How did Helgena know Kristr had stolen his brown haired Donegal bride from under his nose?

Pulling her own dagger from beneath her cloak, she pressed the blade against his arm. 'You are too deep in your cups of mead tonight. Unhand me now lest I cut through the sinews on your sword arm! Greysteinn arrived at the Jarlshof on Shetland four days ago with a tiny little halfling. I dressed her as the thrall she was but Kristr Greysteinn rejected me for her. Her!' Helgena's voice rose to a shriek. MacHyde released her from his grasp. Anna was comely enough, but Kristr was a fool to reject a woman of the world like Helgena.

Helena continued on her rant, 'The apples do not fall far from the tree on the fjords. Like father, like son.' Kerik Greysteinn had taken Grainne Hyde all those years ago. Gertrude had told her the whole tale. Just as Kerik had rejected her for Gertrude, now Kristr had rejected her for Anna. She had taught Kristr all she knew. She had made him a man and now she would take all that was precious to him.

MacHyde pinched his lips. 'You speak in riddles.' She shrugged. Obviously he did not know the full story of his mother. She would keep the information with her a little longer.

'Well, let me appraise you of the situation, Valkryie. That halfling thrall, as you call her, was my betrothed, and I want her back.' Anna's value had doubled over that of what he had cheated Kristr Greysteinn. He would be happy to sell her to Helgena, for the right price. For coin he would sell her to slavers in the warm lands in the south. 'However, I will need some payment and assurances from you. I might have at her when I bring her back, but after that, she can be yours.'

'Of course. This should pay you for both your trouble and my new bed-thrall for my fosterlings. Do with it as you see fit.' She threw an object on the table, shiny and golden as it skidded across the table. A collar.

* * *

On hearing the commotion in the kitchens, and Maria's shrieking, Kerik dispatched Ellrik to investigate, whilst he and Kristr went to meet Taylr, coming down from the high-point path.

'Taylr, what have you sighted?' Kristr called out to his companion.

'There is a boat arriving in the fjord, not a longship. More like a large Irish currach. Come and see.'

Squinting against the spring sun, shielding his eyes, Kristr could make out the boat, and at least one figure on it that he recognised. Turning to his father, he said, 'Tis not foe this day. I shall have Gertrude prepare the ale, so that we may go and greet our guest.'

As Ellrik reached the kitchens he was nearly knocked over by Maria, all arms, legs and unbound hair, throwing herself at him. 'Who is coming? Are they raiders?' He tutted at his sister's over-reaction. He did not know who came yet, but it was his duty to keep the womenfolk safe, and in Maria's case, calm. 'Easy sister, you must cease with your Greek tragedies. I will not let any harm come to you.' Looking to Anna and Catherine, clinging onto one another, he clucked soothingly in Gaelic. 'Shh, Ladies. Have no fear, it is only one boat and unlikely to be a raid.' He stroked Catherine's hair. He hoped that this one boat did not carry the one man who could take her from him.

Kristr's voice boomed through the kitchen. Reverting to his own tongue, he called to Ellrik telling him who was arriving, although Ellrik's wide smile did nothing to ease Anna's worry, as he continued to play with the circlet entwined in Catherine's hair. She watched as Gertrude prepared a horn of ale, and left the kitchen, with Maria following, now a docile lamb. Kristr finally smiled and kissed Anna on the forehead, 'Sweetling, a guest has arrived at the steading, but I would much rather that yourself and Catherine stayed in my hall until the welcoming ceremony is complete.' Seeing her lip tremble, he continued, 'Nei, tis nothing to worry about, and I promise I will make introductions soon.' Following him to his hall, she and Catherine went in, and sat down by the hearth, wondering who the guest could be.

The boat docked, and a tall man leapt out. 'Thor's teeth,' Kristr laughed as he grasped the man's forearms. 'You look like your sire in those Irish clothes! Come, partake of some ale.'

Gertrude came forward with the horn of their sweetest ale, and after he downed the cup, he gave her a deep bow, and she returned his gesture. 'Tis a pleasure to see you here again, Johan Flynn.'

Flynn greeted Ellrik and Kerik like old friends. He had known both of them since the time Kristr and he had fostered at the Jarlshof with Helgena. He and Kristr had entered manhood as brothers, and the Greysteinn family viewed him as one of their own.

Clapping Johan on the back Kerik's voice good-naturedly roared over the introductions. 'Come, let us go to my hall so that you may tell us of your travels and inform us of the activities of your other countrymen, your mother's people, whilst the womenfolk prepare the skause stew for natmal.'

Johan deferred to the older man, 'Of course Kerik. I have a lot to tell since I last saw your sons,' he eyed Kristr and Ellrik with mirth, 'and their small Irish prizes.' If Ellrik had not taken Catherine as his concubine, Johan would quite happily eat a thorn bush. Kristr would have met his match in the spirited Anna. The last time he saw her, she was screaming insults at them through her gagged mouth. Kristr did not seem too annoyed at his little joke, so perhaps the old Celtic god Sucellos and the Viking goddess Freja had met and made their match.

'How are Anna and Catherine faring here?' Johan questioned, grinning as his friends looked at one another, sheepishly. 'They have woven their magic, haven't they?'

The silence was broken by Kerik's loud voice, 'Johan, you are my only boy who has not fallen for the charms of a maiden yet, and I hope your brains are not as addled as those of my sons!'

Settling in the hall at the hearth, a cask of ale was brought for the men. 'I bring news, and not all of it good.' He proceeded to tell the Greysteinn men of his conversations with Raymond of RathSteele, and the duplicity of MacHyde with the Donegal clan. Raymond had no idea that MacHyde was such an underhanded brigand, and was devastated at the loss of his daughters.

Although it was the information that Kristr was expecting, knowing that Anna's father hurt as much as she did, the pain was not lessened. For him to lose Anna now would destroy his life, and he felt great sympathy for Raymond.

'I can assure you from my time with Raymond that he has annulled any match made between MacHyde and his daughter. However, he does not have the silver to pay the ransom, and I made it clear to him that he should not arrive here without it.' Kristr's honour was still at stake, and Johan, like Kerik, knew this. 'He feels as if he has lost his daughter, and foster daughter for ever, but I believe he will try to negotiate with the other chieftains of Ulster.'

'However, that is not the main cause for your concern. MacHyde is determined to claim Anna back, and he has a powerful ally. ' The three men looked at him expectantly. 'Helgena of the Jarlshof.' They did not need to know about the collar. 'I believe she wishes to buy Anna from him, when he returns with her.'

Kristr stood up and threw his ale, horn and all into the hearth, the hissing and spitting of the liquid breaking the silence. 'I will kill him for this. He shall not make a slave of my woman, and then I will kill that half-troll Helgena.' Johan smiled to himself. Kristr was indeed smitten if he referred to her as 'his' woman.

Kerik interjected, 'Nei, do not let your temper interfere with your plans.' He looked at the angry faces of the younger men. 'There is much more to this story with MacHyde, as I believe there is more to your history as a foster child with Helgena.' He would challenge Kristr on that matter in private, continuing, 'but we shall address one thing at a time, and the safety of Anna and Catherine is your first concern.'

There was a knock at the hall door as Kristr announced himself loudly. When she saw who arrived with himself and Ellrik she cried out and made to run away. Kristr gently reached for her arm, and held her back, 'Easy, sweetling,' he crooned, 'I told you all will be well. This is a foster brother of mine, Johan Flynn. You were very frightened the last time you saw him, I know. But he will never cause you harm.' He stroked her shoulder and ran his hand down her braid as she continued to shake quietly, but she did not try to flee.

Johan kept his distance, but addressed her in Gaelic, 'Anna, I am proud to make your acquaintance. Catherine was just coming around when I saw her for the first time, and I am pleased to meet her too.' He gave a small bow in her direction, and she returned a small smile, before curling up into Ellrik's arms. Johan could see for himself how his brothers had fallen in love, and it would also be his responsibility now to help them keep these young women safe.

* * *

Anna had left the natmal early, before the arrival of the skalds, feigning tiredness, but she really wanted to be with her own thoughts. Earlier today she was convinced her father had come to rescue her, or that MacHyde had come to claim her. She did not want to think that she was just worth silver to Kristr, she hoped what they shared went beyond the value of a precious metal. Her emotions were as scattered as the stars in the sky. She wanted to see her father, but to leave Kristr now would leave a hole in her heart.

Her mind drifted from the earlier anxiety of the day, from Johan's arrival to Kristr, as she thought of him that morning, naked, proud and erect. Her hand drifted over her navel towards her soft mound of curls, her fingers exploring and opening for the first time the blossom that Kristr had kissed and adored the previous eve. She started to play with her breasts, teasing her nipples to life, as they became firm and peaked under her nervous novice hand. Biting her lip as she lost herself in her thoughts and the sensations that Kristr had unlocked, exploring her own body as he had done, she felt the tightening in her womb and the glorious build of tension in her core.

She heard a swish of curtain and her eyes flew open. She tried to speak but had lost her voice, as Kristr looked down at her, his grey eyes almost black with desire. 'Do not bite that lip, you know what it does to me.'

Her voice was husky with longing, 'Kristr, I, I... ' He pulled the fur from her body as he eyed her fingers, slick with her own juices. He knelt on the bed between her parted thighs, his knees barely touching her warm folds, and raising her hand to his mouth started to lick and suck her sweet nectar from her hand, nibbling on her soft skin in appreciation, as she tried to tug her hand free of his lips.

'Oh no, Anna, you taste too sweet to me, and I have not had my fill of you yet.' She tried to squirm away in embarrassment, but he held her wrist firm in his grasp, and holding it above her head brought her other arm up to join it, one hand easily holding both slim wrists. 'Now, are you going to stay still whilst you let me bestow love play upon you, or will I have to bind you as my love captive for the duration of the evening? ' She panted with want, she had been so close to her own release, and writhed below him, trying to get purchase for her tender bud against his legs. 'Ohh, no, my greedy little sweetling, I want this to last all night.' He reached for the soft woollen girdle rope of her dress, and she moaned with desire as his weight shifted from above her body, and he deftly tied her wrists, ensuring that she was still able to move without the bindings chafing her tender skin.

He pressed the palm of his hand over her mons, twisting his fingers gently in the light brown curls, exploring the soft hair, and the sensitive petals below. as his mouth sought hers. She could taste her own honey on his tongue as he caressed her mouth, nipping at her lips, claiming her as his. She was his, as she surrendered to his touches, his kisses, his embraces, her shoulders, breasts, waist and hips tingling as he grazed lightly over her skin, barely breathing; alternating it with passionate worshiping of her creamy flesh. His hand was now exploring where hers had been, his expert touch causing her tension and heat to rise again, she began to cry out his name in ecstasy, her body quivering in unbridled passion as she felt her warm sweetness flow.

She barely felt him undoing the bonds as he knelt on the bed before her, his shaft hard, a gentle sheen at the tip. Flushed from her own release, she slid her hands around his neck and drew him towards her, welcoming him, wanting him to enter so they could be again as one. She moaned softly as he entered her, her body adjusting to his size. Slowly he moved at first, savouring her satiny warmth, her precious gift to him. Looking into her deep blue eyes, he saw everything he wanted; a lover, a mate, a united life.

'I love you, Anna,' he whispered as he gave a final thrust, his head collapsing onto her shoulder, kissing her neck.

'And I you, Kristr.' She closed her eyes, and dreaded the thought of the next boat that may arrive in the fjord.


	14. Chapter 14

syiungThank you for reading, for your reviews and your PMs. I appreciate them all!

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Chapter 14

Anna woke up to a sweet nuzzling on her neck and a warm hand kneading softly on her breast. The gentle touch of his mouth and hands was exquisite. His touch was a salve, but rather than healing, was setting her on fire. Squirming and giggling, she wriggled from below him, 'Kristr, stop it! You are making a wanton out of me!'

'Good.' He arched an eyebrow, 'that makes two of us. You are my my every wanton breath, and I need sustenance.' She playfully slapped his hand away. 'I have to earn my keep on the steading now. Let me fetch some food for the dagmal.'

He growled in amusement at her use of the Norse word for the morning meal, 'That is not the sustenance I want, and you know it. I told my brother you would be speaking like us before long. And attractive as you are when you speak Gaelic, I can barely contain my Viking bloodlust when you speak in Norse.' He gave a long low rumble as he lunged for her.

She squealed in delight as she tried to duck his grasp, but it was pointless as he held her firmly, biting gently on her neck as she tried to twist her head, her body held motionless beneath his.

'Well, do you yield to this Viking, my wanton Irish princess?' he murmured, continuing to kiss her neck, nipping sweetly at her jawline.

'Ja,' she moaned. She felt his shaft grow hard against her hip as he pressed his weight upon her, making her all too aware of the growing heat within her core, and her desires of her body overran the established rational thoughts of her mind. 'Kristr! Nei! I do not yield.'

He stopped instantly, and seizing her chance, she pushed him on to his back, and sitting astride him, she watched as his silver eyes grew as wide as Danish coin. She raised her body so that she could take his length, his hands cupping and caressing her smooth hips, supporting her as she adjusted to the new sensations, filling her, impaling her. Slowly finding her rhythm, her movements, careful and measured soon became more urgent as she felt she felt the now delicious tension grow within. As she watched the expression on her Kristr's face move from lust to longing, with a final shudder, she threw her head back cried out in ecstasy as the spasms of her womb brought her lover to his own release.

* * *

'Kristr!' Kerik's familiar loud voice echoed down the hall. 'Are you awake?'

'If I was not awake before now, you have made it so, Fadir,' Kristr yelled back. Anna hid under the furs in embarrassment, only recognising a word or two. She felt his light kiss on her forehead, as he tucked the fur in around her naked body with a smile. Leaping up to pull on his breeches and tunic, 'Wait there so that I may save my woman's blushes.'

'It is as well she does she not understand all your words yet, Kristr Silver-Tongue! Come, you and I need to take part in a family Allthing.'

As Kristr wrapped the leather laces around his leggings, sitting on the bed he said, 'my father wants to speak with me in an Allthing.' Seeing her confusion, he continued, 'Normally it is an event whereby men and women can come together to discuss their issues and air their grievances, although in this case it will be just between him and I.' He pulled her braid from below her back and curled it over her shoulder, falling over her breast. 'I shall see you soon, Sweetling.'

Stepping out into the bright sunny day from the dim light of the hall, he saw his father standing with Ellrik and Johan. Taking his leave from them, he called to Kristr, handed him a sack with some bread and cheese within, and started walking along the path to the high-point. 'Come, son.'

The dew on the long grass was felt cold and damp against the wool of his leggings, as he walked in silence beside his father. When they came to the high-point, overlooking the icy blue waters of the fjord, empty and still, Kerik motioned for his son to sit on the flat rocks, facing out onto the limitless horizon. Kristr thought of the journeys he had made, leaving the steading, and the joy he felt on returning home. He may be a wealthy man, but on the steading, Kerik was Jarl, and disobeying his sire was not countenanced. The gentle distant lowing of cattle and calls of the seagulls was finally broken by Kerik's voice, softer than usual.

'Son. I need the truth. Why should Helgena ally herself with MacHyde?'

'Why should you call MacHyde the son of a murderer?' Kristr countered.

Kerik's features darkened, his tone more firm. 'I am Jarl, I am responsible for this steading and you will answer to me, not question me.'

Kristr picked up a twig and idly poked it in the soft damp earth. 'Ja, Fadir. I understand.' He took a deep breath. How could he explain to his father about his time in fosterage in Shetland? Under Viking law a boy became a man at twelve summers, but it was only when his time was over with Helgena that he was on his way to becoming a man. She had the ability to harness the skills, potential and ability of each boy and develop them into strong, independent men. Masters of their worlds.

He looked up at his father, a small recalcitrant child again, answering to his sire. Kerik's arms folded, his face expectant. 'Helgena was an excellent educator. She taught me the old Norse sagas of Odin and Thor, of the creation of our world, Asgard. I also learned of the Greeks and the Romans, and the languages that I needed to make my way in the known world outside our noble Viking lands.'

Kerik nodded. His wife's sister had made a fine merchant and negotiator out of the sorrowful young boy he had left there all those seasons ago.

'However, she believed in very strict discipline, inside her hall and,' Kristr paused. This was difficult. '...and inside her bed chamber.'

The older man uncrossed his arms, and leant into his son, holding his shoulders. 'Her bed chamber?' Kristr swallowed and nodded. 'Continue.'

'A number of boys were favoured by Helgena. We were taken to her chamber where she, ah, educated us on the methods of love play. If we did not meet her standards, the discipline from the hall was extended to the bed furs.'

Kerik was barely able to contain his fury, but had to, for his son's sake. He shook Kristr's shoulders. 'And why did you not think to tell me of these actions? I am your father and your Jarl!' Gertrude should have told him of Helgena's tastes. They were sisters. She must have known.

He looked his father in the eye. There was no holding back the secrets of his life as a young man now. 'At first I was ashamed. I believed I deserved the punishment for not saving my mother. Also, I did not know that there was any other kind of bed-sport, and as I grew older I came to enjoy it.'

Kerik looked at his son with a mixture of pity and horror. 'Fadir, you asked the question, let me continue. 'The relationship changed. As Helgena made me the master of my world on the seas and in the trading markets, I became the master of the bed-chamber.'

Kerik's voice was hoarse, his mind racing as her tried to listen to his son. The healthy strapping red-headed boy Grainne had borne into the world, that he was proud to claim. The terrified child who saw his mother killed outside Dubh Linn. The grieving lad who was sent far across the sea to become a man. He stood, pulling his hands through his brown curls, pacing, trying to drag air into his lungs. 'And when did this end?'

'When I rejected her love play for Anna.' This tryst had continued until a fortnight ago.

Kristr watched in shame as his father howled in rage and spewed the contents of his daymal from his stomach. 'My son! I failed you.' He spat the remaining vomit onto the heather, the sour-smelling lumps ugly on the fresh growth of plant.

'Nei, Fadir, you did not fail me.' He could not blame his sire. He could not tell his father how much he had enjoyed the rough-bedsport with Helgena, and that until Anna came into his life, he believed it to be the only way to spill his seed within a woman. Helgena was not alone in her bed-games of master and slave.

'Helgena failed me. She failed me as my teacher and mentor when she joined forces with MacHyde.' He could not see how they were connected to each other.

Regaining his composure, Kerik stood up and wiped his mouth, his loud voice still shaken, 'I need to tell you of MacHyde, and it is not a pleasant tale. Some parts will be familiar to you, others will not.'

Kerik proceeded to confess to his son all that he knew of Grainne's history, how he when he had first laid eyes on her, in his bloodlust he wanted to take her for a bed thrall, enticed by her small frame and beautiful hair. That was until he saw the bruises on her arms and the pain in her eyes. She had not fought him, as he scooped her into his arms, taking her chances with a Viking raider than stay with her lawful husband. With Kerik's careful attention and Gertrude's sisterly love, Grainne settled into the way of the steading.

This was not new to Kristr, but as Kerik unfolded the rest of the story to him, so much more became clear. Grainne had told Kerik of the loss of her first born son, Jack, who was drowned on the way to Anglesey with his father. Determined that she bear him another son, she was subjected to her vicious husband's nightly assaults until Kerik had found her hiding behind the church. Kerik also had his doubts on the accidental drowning, but as a Christian, Grainne wanted no more loss of life. He could not understand her God and their faith of turning the other cheek.

'I broke my vow to Grainne when I killed her husband. I knew it was Hyde that killed her on the pilgrimage. When you regained consciousness and told me that your mother had told you to hide, I realised the truth. She was not telling you to conceal yourself, but she was telling you the name of her killer'.

Kristr paled. 'I did not know the name of her Christian husband.'

'Nei, she never told you. She loved you so much, and she was overjoyed to be a mother again. After her death, I sought information on Hyde. During that time, I found out her son was still alive, but Hyde had cast him in his own image, and told him his mother had abandoned him. His looks favoured the father, but you have the colouring of your mother.' Kerik had found out that MacHyde's mind had been so corrupted by his father, not even Johan Flynn would be able to uncover the truth.

Kristr's shoulders slumped, as he pulled his own hands through his hair, he suddenly recognised the family trait between himself and Kerik.

'MacHyde is my brother.' The thieving, greedy avaricious waste of a sire's seed shared his own flesh and blood.

Kerik rubbed his son's shoulder, the only affection he could manage or Kristr could tolerate after their conversation. 'From what Johan has found out from MacHyde, he has not made the connection.'

'Under Norse law I cannot kill him yet. I shall have to challenge him to a Holmsgang, a duel.' Kristr could not abandon his Norse sense of honour now. 'And then I will kill him. For my mother. For Anna.'

'Come, son. It is time to join your true brothers.' Kerik extended his hand as Kristr accepted and pulled himself up. Clasping hands, the bond between father and son may have been bruised, but not broken.

* * *

Having composed himself on the walk back, he stopped for with Ellrik and Johan in the fields, whilst Kerik headed back to the blacksmith's hut. Everyone on the steading had to work, and Kerik did not become a strong respected leader by sitting on the dais, ordering people from afar. Taking a long drink from the water skin he smacked his lips, watching the expectant look on the faces of the other men.

'I told him,' he confessed. Ellrik always had his doubts about Helgena's intentions towards Kristr; a young skinny boy on the verge of manhood should not have been attractive to an experienced woman such as she. Although Johan had experienced the harsh discipline of the hall, he was not favoured sexually by Helgena, although through their friendship as foster brothers, Johan had known of the night-time activities of Helgena and her favoured fosterlings.

Johan eyed his friend. There was more to come. 'Kristr, what else do you have to say?'

Kristr gave a hollow laugh. 'You always had the gift of second sight, Johan.' He pulled his hands through his hair and gave a long low sigh, expelling every breath of air from his lungs, before taking a deep breath and recounting the whole ugly saga to the pair.

'Father has given me permission to take Anna to see her kin, but she must return with me. Now that I know more of MacHyde, I cannot, I will not, let him take her from me.' Ellrik murmured in approval. To see his brother finally feel love for a woman, not just lust for a bed partner displayed the inner emotions he had kept controlled for so long. Ellrik loved women, but until the first time he had held Catherine in his arms, and offered her a drink from his wineskin, he did not know he could be in love.

* * *

Kristr found Anna in the main hall at the loom, demonstrating to Gertrude and some of the other women her methods of weaving fine linen cloth. She had not lied about her skill, pride in her work evident on her face. The language may have been halting, but was no barrier to learning; the women clucking appreciatively, watching Anna's deft movements as her fingers handled and slipped elegantly over the shuttle as it flew through the weft threats displayed her expertise. He wished his cock were that shuttle, wrapped in those skilful hands. Shaking his head from his daydream, he approached the group, engrossed in their observations.

'Madir, may I take Anna from her teaching? I think it is time for another lesson.' Gertrude smiled at him. He was not her child by blood, but she loved him as a son as much as Ellrik. And now both her boys were blessing her with daughters. Grainne would be proud of him. Gertrude still missed her after all these years; she had loved the flame haired Irish woman more than her own true-sister on Shetland.

'Of course, son.' She gestured her thanks to Anna, as she took her place at the loom, eager to apply what she had observed from the younger woman.

Out in the clean morning air, Kristr turned to her, as he smoothed his hands over her plait. 'I have two gifts for you today, and a lesson.' Her eyes lit up in as he handed her a small dagger. He really was going to teach her to defend herself. 'The blade is still blunt, in case you manage to cause me damage.' His eyes twinkled silver. She may be tiny and defenceless now, but under his tutelage she would learn to do damage on anyone who dared to touch her.

'Tis beautiful.' She ran her fingers lightly over the patterned bronze handle, wrapped with a slim leather thong. 'And it is mine?'

'Ja, and when you are ready, we shall sharpen it, so that it matches your tongue!' He grinned at her snort of disapproval.

He showed her how to hold the knife, to stab, to slice, to block. He explained its benefits in close combat. She would not be using it as an offensive weapon, he was teaching her to protect herself. They would practice every day until she felt confident, and then he would take her to the blacksmith and they would sharpen and polish the blade. She would no longer be helpless and whilst he loved the idea of protecting his Anna, he delighted in the fact that she would also be her own woman. Determined. Skilled. Viking.

'My second gift to you is not a weapon.' She looked at him quizzically, and unable to keep his news to himself any longer, 'my father has given me permission to take you to visit RathSteele and let your kin know that you are well.'

She threw her arms around him 'What wonderful news! When can we sail?'

'Easy, sweetling. It will be another fortnight before the tides are favourable, but you must promise that you will return with me.' Breaking the embrace, she felt weak at the knees. Still a hostage. Still held for ransom. She knew what she wanted, and there had to be more to her life with Kristr. She wanted to be with him, to take wedding vows with him, she did not care if they were Christian or pagan. She would live anywhere with him; the cold north, the warm lands far to the south. When she saw her father and brother, it would be easy to sail back with him, but because it was by desire and love, not by obligation and law.

'And if my father has garnered the silver, what do you expect from me?' She tried to hide the nervous tremble in her voice. He held her close, not wanting to let her go. Her value to him was beyond all the silver, gold, garnets and jade in his possession. She should be his wife, not his hostage. Honour and ransom hung over his head like a winter cloud.

'If Raymond of RathSteele has the silver, then you will be released, and free to stay with him.' Kristr said a silent prayer to whatever god was listening that this was not the case.


	15. Chapter 15

Thanks, DoV, ELTR, ER and W I couldn't have got this far without your support :)

SORRY FOR THE CONFUSION!

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Chapter 15

Whilst Anna waited for the tides to turn, and her voyage to see her father, life had settled into a routine on the steading. She could not bring herself to ask Kristr about the silver again. It was obvious that the steading was wealthy, and that any ransom paid would not increase the coffers greatly. Just as Catherine and Joseph were pawns in a marriage transaction, she was a pawn in a trade exchange. She wished that her father could procure the silver; she could imagine it was a dowry and she could stay with Kristr of her own free will. Perhaps when she returned to Donegal, Kristr would give her that choice. He had said that when the ransom was paid she would be free to make whatever choice she wanted. She would choose him.

Anna loved to weave, and to sew, and was happy to spend time mending the garments of her temporary companions , although she liked to take a little extra care over Kristr's clothing. She had been spending part of each day carefully embroidering the rune from his tattoo into a new fine grey tunic. She had not yet shown him her work as she wanted to have it complete before they left for Donegal, but she was sure he would appreciate the gesture. Anna missed her small silver needles at first, but when Gertrude had presented her with a little cylinder containing needles made of bird bone, she was delighted. She was proud to have her small sewing pouch hanging from her silver brooch, like a true Viking woman.

Teaching Gertrude and the other women the different ways of weaving, how to make small intricate patterns in the fabric, gave Anna a sense of pride and belonging. To share her skills with others was a rewarding experience, as she had done on RathSteele. Her cloth had been part of the income for the clan. She still missed her father and brother, and was sure Catherine did too. Catherine. To see her friend so happy, so content made her wonder if this had been part of the Lord's plan for her. Catherine was born to live here, in the fjords. Her height aside, she would pass easily for a Norsewoman, with her blond hair, blue eyes and steadfast approach to life. If she and Joseph had married, it would have extinguished the life spark from them both. Anna would never have believed that the modest quiet Catherine would have become the concubine to a Jarl's son, but she also would never have believed she would become a hostage, a captive who did not want to leave her captor. Catherine, as Ellrik's concubine, now had status on the steading. She did not dress as a married woman, and still wore her hair unbound, like a Norse maiden, with the exception of a small kerchief covering the crown of her head, held in place by her silver circlet, its symbolism identified her as Ellrik's woman, in every way but in marriage vows.

Under Maria's tutelage, her Norse was improving, with more new words creeping in every day. Each day it sounded a little less strange, and she started to worry that she would forget her mother tongue, especially where there was no word in Irish for the Norse item. Maria's infectious good nature and humour continued to keep her spirits up, and she knew she would miss Maria when she returned to her training as a healer, further down the coast.

On RathSteele, Anna had avoided the kitchens at all costs, preferring to scrub clothes or even milk cows than be involved in the preparation of the meals. Here, she was still mindful of her status as a hostage, albeit one who was fairly content, and she was keen not to cause any offence to the people who had treated her so kindly. MacHyde as her husband would hardly have fed or cared for her so well. Having spent so little time at the hearth, she was surprised to realise that she enjoyed it, especially since the spring weather was pushing out new leaves and shoots to enjoy. She wondered if she would be here for harvest time, around the time of Lunasa and the eighth moon.

Seeing the first early blossoms of hawthorn, breaking though the warming clear spring sunshine reminded her of Donegal, and of the upcoming festival of Bealtine. On RathSteele they would have cut hawthorn blossom and decorated the house, the tiny white flowers a symbol of new life after the long winter. Although frowned upon by the Church, there was a certain tolerance for some of the ancient rituals, as reflected in the Celtic Cross used by her people, the blend of the old worship of the sun and the new worship of Christ, helped the Irish to accept the new faith. She and Catherine would have washed their faces in the first dew of Bealtaine, said to have magical properties to add to a maiden's complexion. It obviously worked on Catherine, her inner and outer beauty shining through as brightly as a summer sun.

The evenings, still long this far north, were spent in the hall, listening to skalds weave their stories; the sagas were fascinating and the skill of the storyteller had her every bit as enthralled as the rest of the assembly. She did not need Kristr to translate so much, but she loved having him so close as he whispered the words in her ear. Having him so close, only made her think of having him under the furs, and she often settled herself on his lap, wiggling her bottom to let him know what she was thinking. He obviously agreed with her sentiments, because on more than one occasion they left the hall for some cool night air, and to allow Anna to admire the magical green and purple lights that lit up the sky on occasion. Nobody was fooled at the antics of the young lovers.

The tales were different to those of home. She loved the Mythological Cycle, fables of the Tuatha de Danaan, royal fairy folk who inhabited Ireland before her Celtic ancestors, who, despite the best intentions of the church were still believed to live in the woods, streams and mountains.

She missed the sorrowful tale of the Children of Lir, Fionnuala and her three brothers, Conn, Aed and Fiachra, who were transformed into swans by their jealous stepmother. They spent four hundred years under the curse until they were freed from the spell by a hermit who followed the new faith, and its message of love and forgiveness.

She wished she were a seanchai, the Irish equivalent to the skald, so that she could do justice to the epic Tain Bo Cualinge, The Cattle Raid of Cooley. The hero Cuchulainn, the Hound of Ulster, singlehandedly fought and won against Queen Maeve of Connacht, only to lose his own life in the process.

* * *

Kristr continued to set aside part of the day so that they may practice with the dagger. She was becoming much better and agile in her actions, as her confidence grew. He still despaired that she had no training in knife play as a young girl, but each training session generally ended with him overpowering her in mock play and a tender kiss on the lips. However, he knew it was time to take her to get the blade sharpened when their mock struggle did not end in a kiss, but in a deft move from Anna when she spun around behind him and smacked him on his backside with the flat of the blade.

His cock twitched in memory of Helgena, quickly replaced by the view of a smirking Anna, delighting in her victory. Giving a long low growl, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Grinning in delight as she feigned a protest, he gave her a light smack on her own delectable rump and immediately wished he hadn't as he practically ran back to their hall, Anna laughing as she bounced on his shoulder, her braid nearly touching the ground as it swung below her.

Entering the hall, and striding down to the chamber, Kristr laughed in glee as Anna pummelled his back, 'Put me down, Kristr! What will people think if they see you carrying me like a sack of turnips!' He grunted as he threw her down on the bed furs.

'Irish wench!' She rolled her eyes as he wrestled her onto his lap as she tried to squirm out of his grasp, but the enjoyment of having her laugh and wriggle as her skirts hitched up below him was becoming too much to bear. 'Did you think you could best me in knife play?'

'Viking maurader!' She finally allowed herself to be subdued with her kicking legs between his and with her hands pinioned behind her back she could feel his erection firm and proud below her, his free hand caressing her bare flesh. She groaned softly in anticipation, as he continued to circle over her soft tender skin.

'How shall I punish you, wench? I remember a very cross little piglet on our journey here. She rolled her eyes at me, and I remember telling her that I should put her over my knee.' He smacked her lightly, and she gave a low moan. 'Do you remember?' Another caress, another smack, a further caress moving from her sweet rounded bottom to between her slightly parted thighs.

'Aye, I remember' she moaned, the heat growing within her, warmth sweetness preparing to welcome him. 'And I also remember a demanding Viking beserker calling me a sea cow as well as a piglet!' She knew exactly what her audacious retort would bring.

As he looked at her delicately pinked cheeks of her behind, the colour reflected on her sweet face and pouty lips was due to desire. 'I think you have learned your lessons for today, sweetling,' he whispered, as he lifted her up to sit on his lap, 'We have a long journey that will start soon, and you will need your rest.'

'Ah, but have you finished?' Anna interjected, as she pressed her palm against his groin, the outline of his desire easily in view. Listening to his quiet hiss of pleasure, she knew she was learning to handle more than one dagger. Another night of play, of memories stored for her future, where ever it may be.

* * *

The sun was barely breaking over the grey horizon when the three boats glided into the hidden cove on the north side of the lough. Silently the crews departed, and crept through the still dark woods, fanning out as they came to the river. The rath was still in darkness. This was too easy. It was easy to find Irish mercenaries from Munster. It was easy to sail down the lough under darkness without being sighted, and now to arrive upon RathSteele without even so much as a hound on guard was beyond his wildest dreams.

He signalled to Lorcan, his longest serving warrior and highest paid gallowglass. With a war cry Lorcan and his men descended on the rath in a flurry of arrows, as MacHyde strode confidently behind them.

Through the wooden spiked gates, now ablaze, the people of RathSteele were in a state of disarray, the women fleeing to the centre roundhouse, with the infants and children, the men seeking their arms and drawing their blades. The barking of dogs and clanging of steel rent through the still dawn morning.

Raymond came storming through the hall, swinging his sword at any man who dared to come near him. MacHyde, you whoreson! He pointed his blade. 'You cause me to lose my daughter by your underhandedness and you now come to ransack my rath!'

Looking over MacHyde's shoulder Raymond dropped his sword to his side. MacHyde held his ground. 'Aha, you must love your children more than your land. Fool. He is not even your own flesh and blood, 'tis obvious to all,' he hissed, watching Raymond's face as Lorcan threw a young man to the ground. His hands were bound and his face was bloody. Pulling Joseph by his hair, raising his head, he held his dagger to Joseph's neck, the blade pressing against his smooth olive skin.

Call off your men, Steele, and I might have mine show some mercy. If not. He pressed the knife further against Joseph's throat, a tiny trickle of blood in a rivulet forming below the blade. 'Or I shall show none.'

Raymond had no option but to capitulate. He did not care if he died, but to allow MacHyde's men to take the lives of those around him would be a mortal sin. 'I will not sacrifice the life of my son to you. You have had my daughter taken from me, and for that I hope you burn in the fires of Hell.'

Every man, woman and child in the rath was rounded up and counted. MacHyde had his men search every hut and dwelling, taking each piece of silver they could find. Coin, goblet, jewellery, hacksilver, it didn't matter. Even the small silver crucifix that belonged to Breda, Raymond's wife.

'Let us see if you can gather enough silver to rescue your daughter now.' MacHyde gave a hollow laugh as he crushed the precious pieces together, 'consider this as Saxon wergild for breach of contract.'

Turning to the now smouldering entrance, he yelled to his man. 'Lorcan! Summon your men. Burn their boats before you go.' Without looking behind, he shouted to the shaken group, 'Come after us and I shall decimate your people, Steele. You have been lucky this day, tomorrow you may not.'

The three boats left as silently as they came, and headed further north.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The rain poured from the skies. All day, all night. All the following day. The wind chopped up the waters, the waves crashing down on the fjord. Anna was anxious lest the time to sail would pass, and another moon and tide would go by before they could leave. She wanted to see her father, to tell him she missed him, but to tell him she was happy. She got up from bed, and went to fetch some water to wash her face and hands. She loved the Norse custom of regular washing, but this would suffice until the evening.

Kristr watched her intently as she brushed her hair, the narrow white teeth of the comb moving smoothly through the dark brown waves, her fluid expert motions of years of practice. Reaching behind, she separated her tresses into three, and started to braid. He sat up and moved behind her, continuing the plait, until the rope of hair ended just at her slender waist. Running his hands softly over her curves, he delighted in the sensuous feeling of her skin, and her sigh of appreciation to his touch, before she stepped away, opening the trunk and pulling out a blue kirtle, the colour of her eyes.

'Will we leave tomorrow?' she asked, hope in her voice, as she dressed, carefully pinning the brooches of her apron dress into place, looking down, making sure they were straight.

'It is unlikely, Sweetling. If the rain ceases today, then we may sail before the waning moon.' His voice was gruff, more so than was necessary. He was avoiding starting the journey, and he knew it. Johan had assured him that Raymond did not have the silver, but holding Anna to her word that she would return with him after all that they had shared would be so difficult. Tethering her and bringing her North once was unfair on an innocent party, to do it again would result in her resentment. He no longer cared about his honour as a trader and merchant. His honour as a man should be greater, and he would try to explain that to his father.

'All this rain reminds me of home,' she sighed. 'It can be tiresome, but without it, we do not have our fine green land.'

He could not disagree with her. The lands of Ulster, known in Gaelic as Uladh, were varied with their undulating gentle green slopes, majestic valleys, and purple heather topped hills, the coastline craggy and wild, the grey mists that blew in from the sea. On a rare clear day the lands of Albion could be seen to the East, to the west, it was ocean for days, weeks and months. It reminded him of home. He could make it his home.

The other provinces were so different. Connacht was barren and craggy, stark in its beauty. Leinster was green and lush, the place where Dubh Linn was founded. Munster to very far south was rocky yet green, warm yet wet, an otherworldly place with high mountains and high tides, hardly accessible without crossing the rough boggy land of the centre of the island. For such a small place, the changes in landscape were extreme; no wonder the Irish never gave up belief in the fairy-folk, or the Sidhe, as they were called in Gaelic.

* * *

Stepping out of the dim light of the hall, they were greeted by a wide glorious rainbow, the sun was struggling to come out from behind the clouds, leaving the magical colours of the arch in the sky. Maria came slowly towards them, picking her way daintily along the mucky path. Anna laughed in amusement, slow and dainty were not words usually associated with Kristr's lively sister.

'Hej! Kristr und Anna!' She sidestepped a brown pool of water, nearly landing in another one. 'The weather has changed, and I have to go to the woods to see what new plants the earth god Jord has left for me with the gift of his rain!' Obviously being confined to the hall for three days did not suit Maria's personality and she was keen to be outside again.

'Maria, I would love to go to the woods with you, but maybe we can wait another day for the earth to dry out a bit. I'm sure the gifts from nature will still be there tomorrow.' Anna hoped that the gentle refusal would be understood. 'Perhaps instead you can show me some of your runes?' Ever since she had seen the angular shape on Kristr's breast, she had been fascinated by the symbols, so unlike the fluid letters of her own language. She had copied the rune as carefully as she could for her embroidery, but would need Maria's assistance to know that it was right. Also, the day spent around the hall would give her a chance to pack her newly acquired belongings for the trip; her precious rose oil, needles and hair comb, as well as preparation of the food and ale for the crew.

Maria seemed to be glad of any activity, and her noisy exuberant approval would waken the dead. She hugged Anna, 'What a magnificent idea! I shall make sure Catherine joins us too!' She danced off, only managing to avoid half the puddles as she went in search of Catherine and Ellrik, not aware of Anna's giggles.

'Your sister's attitude to life would bring a smile to the face of even the most sour old crone.' Anna, squeezed Kristr's hand. 'I think her smile might be one of her most potent potions in her store of healing skills.'

Kristr followed his sister's movements until she had made it back to the hall, her calls for Catherine cutting through the quiet morning. 'Ja,' he grinned. ' I love her dearly, but I pity the poor man who takes her as a wife.' He did not believe that at all. His sister was coming of age, and there would be no shortage of suitors for the lively, intelligent, kindhearted Jarl's daughter. It would be a fortunate man who succeeded in wooing Maria as well as her father, mother and brothers.

The following day was a perfect Spring day. The sea was calm, there was only a few wispy clouds in the sky and there was even a bit of warmth in the sun as it stretched its rays over the fjord. The torrential rain of the previous days was forgotten in the bright light of the morning. Shortly after the dagmal, Maria, Catherine and Anna left for the woods, with instructions from Kristr to keep to the path, and to be aware of boars. He had tucked her new sharpened dagger in its sheath, and fastened it on to her girdle. Maria brought her basket to gather fresh herbs for her healing potions, and Catherine was keen to find some cloudberries; she had never tasted them before and Ellrik spoke longingly of the first tart fruits of Spring. Anna packed her sewing into a little satchel. She could find a dry spot to sit and finish her embroidery whilst the other two foraged for their ingredients.

As they walked along, listening to Maria and her stories, songs and mimickry of her menfolk, Anna felt that if she was not training to be a healer, she would be known throughout the fjords as a skald and entertainer.

Maria's mischievous side was not far under her skin. 'Tell me, Sisters,' she swung her basket casually from arm to arm, 'what is it like being with a man?' Anna blushed crimson and Catherine giggled in amusement.

'We cannot talk about such things, Maria,' Anna chided. She did not want to start talking of Kristr and their bed play, his body muscular from years of sailing and farming. She broke out of her reverie when Maria's voice rang in her ears.

'But I am still virgin, and how will I know what is love?' Maria pouted. 'I know nothing of the ways of the world, and now that I have found women for my brothers, I want to know what to expect! I'm not a child, and as my sisters you should tell me what I am to expect!' She threw her arms in the air in mock despair. 'By the time I meet a suitable mate, Ellrik, Kristr and my father will have scared him so much, I shall be a maiden forever, with grey hair and stooped over a walking staff!'

Catherine put her arms around Maria, 'Sister,' she said, proud of Maria's acceptance of her, 'all I can tell you is that you will know when it is the right man for you.' Catherine knew that better than most. 'It will be most pleasurable to share yourself with a man you love, and who loves you.'

'But how can something that causes pain give pleasure?' Anna blushed further, thinking of her recent evening spent wriggling on Kristr's lap, her audacious lust as she initiated further play. 'Why do your cheeks pinken so, Anna?' queried Maria. 'I thought there was only pain the first night.' Anna opened her mouth and closed it again, the words would not form.

Finally she managed to compose herself and sputtered, 'It only hurts for a short time, but after that, it is pleasant.' For reassurance, she looked to Catherine, who nodded in agreement.

'Do not think your blushes will save you from further questions, Sisters!' Maria laughed at the modesty of the pair, even after nearly a full moon on the steading with the Greysteinn family. Shyness with nudity and flesh must be a Irish or a Christian custom. She would leave it for now.

They spent most of the day in and around the woods, Catherine and Maria were busy digging roots and cutting plants. Anna found a log, the space left by the fallen tree affording plenty of light to work on her sewing. She was so proud of her embroidery creation, a Norse pattern sewn with her new Norse needles. As the sun started to move down in the sky, she squinted at the light, and called to the others. 'Perhaps we should think about heading to the steading now.'

'But it will not be dark for ages yet,' Maria was engrossed in carefully lifting a piece of lichen off a rock, 'and I have so many more places to look.'

'All the same, I think we should turn back. The light fades fast in Spring here. We can come out tomorrow, if Kristr and I have not sailed.' Maria scrunched her nose in disapproval but shrugged in acceptance. She called to Catherine and they picked up their baskets to head towards the steading, excitedly talking about what each had achieved that day.

'Oh no!' Anna stopped in her tracks. 'My needles!' She had to go back for them, they were a precious gift from Gertrude. 'You two go on, I shall catch up with you before you know it.' She turned around and hastened back to her sewing spot, and the log on which she had sat. She picked up the little cylinder of needles, and prepared to fasten them to her brooch with their silver chain.

She thought the shadow of the sun was falling quickly over the trees, and she made her way back to the path, when the shadows moved. That was peculiar. She started to walk briskly, then, her imagination getting the better of her, she started to run, when she tripped over a tree root. Wincing, as she got up, she realised she must have strained her ankle. Maria would be able to help her when she got back to the hall. Pulling out her shiny sharpened dagger, the metal catching the last rays of light, she scolded herself for letting the long shadows of the afternoon sun scare her.

That was until the shadow cast over her body. She turned around and lunged, hearing a man's voice howl in pain and outrage. 'Bitch!' The language was Irish. Another shadow came from the opposite direction and pushed her to the ground, one knee on her back, the other crushing upon her dagger arm, forcing her to release her weapon. She screamed as loudly as she could, but choked as the knee pressed harder on her back, pushing the air from her lungs. 'Hold her there, Lorcan. She shall not cause me further damage.' She tried to scream again. She knew that voice. He came closer to her, squatting on the ground as she lay prone before him. 'I see your lover has been teaching you well. He held up his arm, the gash evident on it, blood congealing in a sticky mass around the lurid saffron coloured fibres of the sleeve. You will pay for this.' His breath was rancid, and she resisted the urge to vomit. He ran a leather thong through his fingers, but rather than reaching for her hands, he pulled on her hair, binding the leather tightly halfway down the length of the braid before pulling out his own knife. 'Shall we leave your lover a present?' He spat the words at her, spittle flying onto her cheek.

She heard the rasping sound of the knife, and her eyes filled with tears of rage as he waved three hand lengths of braid in front of her. 'He will kill you for this insult!'

Throwing the plait on top of her satchel, he turned to Lorcan. 'Silence her and get her onto the boat.' Anna felt a slap to the back of her head, felt dizzy and then felt nothing.

* * *

Catherine and Maria were nearly back at the steading when they met Kristr and Ellrik coming towards them. Kristr's eyes narrowed. 'Where is Anna?'

'She forgot her needles when we were at the edge of the woods, and she went back to retrieve them,' Catherine confirmed. 'She said she would catch up with us.' Frowning, she realised that Anna should have caught up with them long before now, but herself and Maria had been so involved in their chatter that they had not noticed.

Kristr took off running, shouting for Anna, and followed closely by Ellrik. With each stride he became more and more panicked. What if she had fallen? Was she injured? In a heartbeat he knew exactly how Raymond of RathSteele must have felt when he found the ransom note stabbed through the tree. He fell to his knees as he saw the satchel, the dagger with blood on it, and the length of her beautiful hair, so carefully plaited by him that morning.

His heart tightened and his stomach lurched. This was not the work of Anna's menfolk taking her back by stealth. MacHyde had been here. He stared at the disturbed earth, evidence of a struggle. Horror was replaced by anger, and fear of what had become of her. Ellrik caught up to his brother, and roared in outrage at the pile of Anna's belongings before them.

* * *

She must be on a boat, the undulating movements were of the sea, not land. Boats did not normally make her feel so ill; and her head was throbbing. She heard voices but they were Irish, not Norse. She tried to open her eyes, but something was stopping her. She reached to her head and felt a rough piece of material. Tugging at it furiously, she screamed for Kristr , but was rewarded with a foul-smelling hand over her mouth, and a horrifying familiar voice. 'Your precious Viking is not here!' Another dirty pair of hands pressed a wine skin to her lips, but when she tried to turn away, the sticky sweet liquid poured down her throat. She choked, swallowed, and all was dark again.


	17. Chapter 17

Thanks to W, DoV, E and ER. Without your support I'd never have had the courage to put this out there.

It's a wee bit longer than usual, but it's nearly complete.

Gabh raibh maith agaibh (Irish for thank you all :)

* * *

Chapter 17

A man's voice cut through the fog of her mind. 'She is stirring again, Master.' Anna groaned as she lolled on the floor, trying to raise herself onto her elbows. A hand pulled her sharply by the ankle and once more she slid down flat against the boards of the hull.

'Make her drink more elixir, Lorcan. Keep her silent.' A sour smelling finger and thumb pinched her nose and as she gasped for air, the cloying viscous liquid sliding down her throat again.

* * *

Kristr was pacing the hall, pulling his hands through his hair. 'We must leave now! MacHyde will not get away with this!' How frightened Anna must be; he remembered his own guilt at taking her hostage, the look of fear and hurt in those clear blue innocent eyes haunting him now.

Kerik sat stone-faced, anger not at his son, but at the people who caused his pain. Hyde may have killed his beloved Grainne, but this scoundrel MacHyde would not be permitted to carry out the same atrocity on Anna.

Johann observed his friend as he stomped the length of the room, kicking the rushes on the floor. 'Kristr, I could not agree with you more, but you must prepare a plan.'

'And what do you suggest? My personal plan is to find MacHyde, cut his ball sack into one hundred pieces and feed it to Helgena of Jarlshof.'

Johann was not perturbed by Kristr's rage, but this fury would lead to poor decisions. 'I believe that they will have sailed to Jarlshof, although MacHyde will assume that you will follow him to Dubh Linn.' The tall quiet Irishman's skill at observation had not let him down before. Johann, in his guise of Albert of Northumberland remembered all too clearly the golden collar that belonged to Helgena, in the grimy hands of MacHyde.

'Well, Johann, we shall sail on the morning to Jarlshof.' Kristr trusted his foster brother with his life, and now he had to trust him with Anna's life too. He picked up the remains of Anna's braid, and held it tight in his fist. This was not the only memento he was going to have of the woman who had changed his life. Placing the plait in his pouch, he drew his sword. 'I will be in the blacksmith's forge, sharpening my blades.'

Ellrik stood up. 'I am coming with you, as is Taylr. We cannot allow you to travel on your own.' A dry smirk crossed his face. 'That fiery red hair of yours matches your temperament, and Johann will need our assistance to save you from yourself.' Taylr, as usual, said nothing, his expression resolute. Kristr nodded his thanks. His brother knew him well.

Johann was happy to be leaving in a small group. If they entered the Jarlshof waters from the less-used and poorly-defended North shore under darkness, it should be easy to enter the settlement buildings.

Addressing Kerik as Jarl he said, 'It might be prudent to send messengers to some of the nearby steadings.' Over a score of boys were fostered by Helgena at any time, and when this was over Johann was sure that Helgena would no longer be fostering young men or boys. Although a boy reached manhood at the tender age of twelve summers, it was not uncommon for them to lay with women so early in life, but the rough bed sport favoured by Helgena was not normally introduced to those so young.

'Consider it done, Johann. If you are not back within a sennight I shall arrange a sailing to Jarlshof myself.' An icy tone had replaced Kerik's normal booming baritone. He would summon the neighbouring Jarls to an Allthing, where Helgena could face her crimes.

* * *

Anna tried to shake herself from sleep, but her limbs would not co-operate. She strained to hear the voices around her; the blindfold was still there, its rough weave pressing against her cheek.

'Why did you cut her hair?' It was a woman, the voice sounded familiar.

A man's voice responded. 'You told me she was to be a slave. Even I know that the Norse do not permit their thralls to have the beauty of long hair. How else will you recognise their lowly status?' Anna would would never forget that voice. She tried not to shake in fear, glad for now that her muscles would not co-operate. MacHyde intended to sell her as a slave. Her heart raced as she thought that she would never see Kristr, her father or Catherine again.

'Most men prefer their bed thralls to look like women, not some dirty wench from the outhouses.' The woman who spoke gave a snort of disapproval. She felt someone grab her by the shoulder and turn her body over. A hand tugged on her hair. 'Maybe we can do something with it.' She could not suppress a small cry of pain at the sharp action.

The woman laughed. 'How much sleeping draught did you give her? The Halfling is barely bigger than a girl, no wonder she's still asleep.' Halfling. The woman was Helgena. She had insulted her size when Kristr had brought her here on the way to the steading. 'I shall have Ethel and Ruth wash her when she fully wakens up.'

'What is she tries to escape, Helgena?'

'She will not be able to get very far, MacHyde.'

The voices faded as they moved out of the chamber, and she succumbed to sleep again

* * *

.

'So, Helgena, what is your plan?' MacHyde swallowed his mead in one gulp, and motioned to the servant to fill his goblet again.

'My fosterlings have been very disciplined over the winter. They have learned their lessons well.' MacHyde guffawed. Lessons with Helgena were very varied and far ranging. She ignored his phlegmatic expression of humour and continued, 'I think they deserve a tournament. The slave will make a fine prize over the usual award of coin.' She took a dainty sip of her own mead. 'And the winner can do whatever he wants with her.' Oxen had more value than thralls. The punishment for killing another man's livestock was greater than the punishment of killing a slave.

'I hope you have not forgotten our original agreement, Valkyrie. I want her first. It will give me pleasure to take something away from the Greysteinn the Great.' His tone was mocking yet the jealousy he felt for his rival was there.

'As you wish. She is no virgin anyway if she has been living with him on the fjords, there is nothing else to do up there.' Helgena snarled, 'His father chose my sister over me when she visited there. Gertrude's life should have been mine!'

MacHyde's head turned sharply. 'You are mistaken. Kerik Greysteinn took my mother, and she went willingly! She even had borne him a half-Irish bastard.'

Helgena gave a hollow laugh. She had not assumed MacHyde's could be so naive. 'Pathetic Christian! He had two women. His own little harem in the frozen North. And who do you think that half-Irish bastard is?' How could he not have seen it before now? 'Surely that fine head of red hair reminds you of another.' She paused, waiting for her words to sink through her companion's wax-filled ears.

He jumped to his feet, drawing his blade in blind rage. 'Kristr Greysteinn is Grainne's bastard! I will gut his little wifelet now, and send her back to the fjords in pieces!'

A dagger flew past his ears, the whistling of metal ringing in his head. The action shocked him back into reality. 'She belongs to me, I paid you handsomely in gold, and you will not touch her until I say so!'

Helgena stormed out of the hall, shouting for her servants, her blond braids snapping against her back with every step.

* * *

A firm hand shook her shoulder sharply. 'Get up, Slave! You have slept long enough!' She startled awake as she was yanked up by her arms onto a chair. Squinting her eyes to the light as the blindfold was pulled off, her vision finally adjusted to see three women standing in front of her. Helgena's lips curled into a sneer. 'Well, halfling, let us see if we can prepare you to be a worthy prize.' Slave. This woman did not even use her name.

The two women stripped her clothes from her, and pushed her into a tub, scrubbing her thoroughly. She moved to resist their meaty hands assaulting her tender skin but Helgena raised a whip, and cracked it viciously. 'Next time it will be your flesh, Slave.'

Shivering and naked, she was dried, scented oils were rubbed furiously onto her body. The overpowering aroma was causing her stomach to churn. She tried to resist as she was dressed in a robe, so sheer that her pink nipples were seen clearly and the small brown curls at the entrance to her womanhood cast a tiny triangle of shadow under the light delicate fabric. Forcing her to sit on a stool, the women braided her much shorter hair into many strands and twisted each into a circlet on her head. Under Helgena's watchful gaze, the whip twirling in her hand, Anna closed her eyes, shutting out the unwelcome sensations and ministrations of the women, her thoughts on Kristr; she would not dwell on what was to become of her at the hands of this jealous crazed woman.

A polished plate was held in front of her face, and she looked at her reflection. Her hair, twisted up and arranged on her head exposed her slender neck. She jumped and cried out as she felt a cold piece of metal clamped around her throat, and the mirror was held up again. Tugging in panic at the ornate collar, she pulled at it frantically, but it would not budge. Her ears burned with Helgena's throaty laugh.

'Now, Slave, you look pretty, but you do not sound pretty.' Startled, Anna's gaze followed her captor as Helgena smirked, drawing two rows of golden bells from a chest. Handing them to Ethel, she picked up the whip and dragged it slowly over Anna's back..

'Move and you will feel twenty blows of my lash, Slave. Fifteen will easily kill you, and I will enjoy sending your bloody corpse to your lover.' She blinked back tears. She could not let Kristr remember her like this. She acquiesced, trying not to watch, as Ethel wrapped a bell cuff around her slim ankle, securing them by twisting copper wire around the hasp and crimping it shut. She repeated the process on the other foot.

'Stand, Slave.' Helgena curled her finger around the collar, forcing Anna to stand. She felt a slap on her buttock, causing her to lurch forward. Helgena pointed across the room. 'Walk to the chest and back.' Anna did this, every step giving a beautiful sound, but to her ears it was clanging, jarring and sinister. 'They come from faraway lands, south of Arabia. This is how they keep their bed slaves under control. Every move you make will be heard by all, and they will know what you are, a slave.'

Without announcement, MacHyde walked into the room, and leered at her. Anna's blood ran cold under his stare. Helgena laughed, 'Not yet, lusty one. After the display tonight you can take her'

He laughed in sick mirth. 'I shall look forward to it Helgena. Brothers should share everything, Anna, surely you agree?' When she refused to answer, he pinched her cheek and turned on his heel.

* * *

Their small boat slipped furtively in through the channel to the north of Jarlshof. The water was very shallow; a larger boat would not have made it so far down the river. The men disembarked quietly, each armed with sword, dagger and ax. Lowering the sail and dropping the mast pole, the craft was easily concealed behind a rock. Darkness was their friend tonight, the dim white glow of the full moon shed sufficent light for the group.

Having spent so many years here, creeping through the outbuildings was no problem for Kristr or Johann. The occasional bark of a hound was easily silenced by tossing a sliver of dried boar at the animal. If that did not work, the animal was slaughtered.

'Stay here.' Johann motioned to Kristr and the others to stay back as they reached the hall, a yellow blade of light shining out through the ajar door. Kristr drew his dagger, the polished steel glinting in the moonlight. Johann grabbed his arm, 'Nei. I said stay here, your emotions will drive your rage.' He was not sure what he was going to see, but if it involved Anna, Kristr's fury would have them all killed.

Johann crept up slowly and watched the unfolding spectacle in horror.

Anna was standing on a dais in the middle of the room; her eyes blazing with a mixture of shame and anger. The silk robe was so fine she may as well have been nude. A leash had been attached to the collar on her neck.

'Turn, Slave.' Helgena was standing beside her, the leash in her hand. He could hardly bear to watch as Anna, staring straight ahead, moved slowly in a circle, unable to stop the jingling bells on her ankles, the sweet sound jarring against the bitter anger evident on her face.

'Fosterlings!' Helgena called out to the assembled group of young men. 'There shall be a tournament for swordplay, archery, knife play and horse skills.' She pulled again on the leash. 'The victor will win this thrall for their bed furs.'

Anna was conscious of nothing but the blood that was pumping through her head, and she barely heard the appreciative murmur that rustled through the assembly, as she tried her best not to fall over.

Through the noise and activity of the hall, Anna felt the world was moving slowly, she was only an observer to the ongoing hideous display. She watched as Helgena motioned to Ethel. 'Take her back to her chamber, she can be claimed by her champion tomorrow.' Handing the leash to the thrall, Anna followed her gaoler from the hall, the bells tinkling around her feet? It was just as Helgena had said; the sonorous jangle letting everyone know who she was, and why she was there.

* * *

Johann ran back to Kristr. 'Hold him down!' he hissed to Ellrik and Taylr. Clamping his mouth shut, he whispered furiously in his friend's ear of what he had seen. 'I know where she is going. Keep your temper and we will not lose her. Do you understand?' Kristr nodded and growled behind Johann's hand. Johann was still in control. His friends needed his particular brand of leadership tonight. He instructed Taylr to scupper any boats that were in the harbour. With a nod, Taylr pulled his ax from his back, checked his tinder pouch and marched off to the water's edge.

'Ellrik, I need you to keep watch on the door of the main hall, lest anyone leave the hall.' These young foster boys would pose no problem for the tall strapping man. Johann and Kristr crept along the side of the buildings, towards the smaller building, keeping the soft pealing of the bells within earshot.

Following the thrall and Anna into the chamber, Johann pounced on Ethel, subduing her. He hoped that she would absolve him of this attack, but Anna's safety was of greater importance. Anna started to scream in fear until she felt a finger on her trembling lips, and grey eyes staring at her with a mixture of fear and longing. Tears started to fill in her eyes, as she tried to speak.

'Shhh, Sweetling.' I have come to bring you home. Home. She was not sure if he meant her father's rath, or his hall, but if she was with him, it would be home. He unclasped the collar from around her neck, letting the leash drop to the floor. He gave her reddened neck a soft kiss.

'I cannot move, they will find me, and you.' She pointed to her feet and the bells. Slicing through the furs left in the chamber, he pushed her gently onto the bed.

'Forgive me, my love. This will not be for long.' He took the cut strips and bound her ankles together, the soft fibres of the pelt trapping within the bells, muffling their sound. He settled her tiny frame in his arms, and signalling to Johann, he left to go towards the hidden boat.

When they reached the little ship, he helped her into a sleeping sack, lined with lambswool. The thin overly ornate clothes she wore had her shivering. 'Keep under the covers, Sweetling, I will be back.' He drew a dagger from his belt and pressed the hilt into her hand. 'You were able to use it before. Do not be afraid to use it again.' Kissing her forehead, with great difficulty, he moved away from her soft skin, and took his leave.

When Kristr crept back to the main hall, he saw Ellrik standing over a number of youths. They had been knocked unconscious, obviously as they had left the building. The alarm had not yet been raised. Helgena and MacHyde were so confident in their deception they had not made plans to prevent a raid.

'Has MacHyde left the hall?' Kristr demanded.

'Nei, not yet. You know you cannot kill him, Brother.' Ellrik wished he could cut the varlet's throat himself.

'Then I shall maim him before we leave.'

Kristr watched at Taylr walked towards them, ax casually slung over his shoulder as if back from a day chopping firewood. Taylr's mouth was grim, as he finally spoke. His task was complete. 'The boats have been sunk. MacHyde will go nowhere. Those ships that do not have a hole in their hull, currently smoulder. They will set ablaze soon.'

Kristr strode into the hall, and pointed his sword at MacHyde. The remaining boys leapt to their feet, but their still unfilled frames would be no match for the seasoned Viking men.

'Jack MacHyde, in front of this assembly as my witnesses, I challenge you to a Holmsgang at the next Allthing, or you forfeit your life now. For insults to me, and to my woman.'

'Your woman?' How do you know I have not planted my seed in her belly? Such a dainty little thing. She will probably die bringing my black-haired son into the world. We are brothers, you and I. She was not fussy which son of Grainne's laid with her.'

Kristr saw red, lunged at MacHyde, slicing his left arm open. Screaming in rage at the second injury to his limb, he tossed a flaming bowl of fish oil at his enemy. Kristr jumped back, and MacHyde made for the door, sword drawn. Although there was but five summers between the men, Kristr was easily besting the pudgy MacHyde, as he drove him from the hall over the carpet of heather that covered the barren ground, sparks flying from the swords as Kristr rained blow after blow onto MacHydes blade, the weaker man's lack of skill and strength evident as he deflected less and less. Finally, Kristr's sword struck his left shoulder; MacHyde yelled in pain but held on to his sword nonetheless.

'It will be your manhood next, you waste of seed!' Kristr meant what he said.

Looking to the flames licking up around the destroyed boats, the eerie orange glow casting ominous shadows over his already darkened beserkr features, MacHyde knew he would not have the reserves to escape his enemy alone. It was Lorcan who always fought his battles; and he was nowhere to be seen.

'I will not take part in your Viking Holmsgang, Greysteinn.' In the dark, MacHyde stopped swinging his sword. Confused, Kristr strode towards him, determined to end his life, but skidded to a halt as he realised how close they were standing at the edge of the cliff. He knew from experience that it was not high, but the rocks and waves at the bottom had claimed many an animal's life. Another animal will be pushed off them tonight, Kristr thought grimly.

'You will never get the pleasure of killing me, but I will haunt your soul for all eternity, you Mother thief!' With that he threw himself over the edge.

Kristr howled in outrage, the sound tearing through the night. It was a hollow victory, but the night was not yet over. By the light of morning there would be nothing but gaudy rags clinging to the black rocks below. He would claim his trophy in the cold light of day.

It was time to find his brothers. Running to the hall, he was confronted with the scene of Ellrik, firmly holding a twisting shrieking Helgena his grasp. His expression was like iron, no trace of the good nature that he normally countenanced around women. Her time had come and she did not deserve any mercy. Seeing his brother, Ellrik swept Helgena's legs from under her, forcing her to her knees.

The master of his own universe was back. He stared through his former mentor and lover. 'You were going to take my Anna as a thrall!'

'She is Irish, what does it matter? There is no law against taking slaves; only your father was soft-hearted enough to fall in love with one.'

'She will be his wife, you jealous bitch.' Ellrik's fury nearly matched that of his brother. 'We should never have come back near you, and your abusive ways.' He threw her roughly into the corner. And after you stand trial at the Allthing, you will never foster again!


	18. Chapter 18

Well, here I am, the end of my first ever fanfic. On Fanfiction, I'd like to thank Wattle, DreamsofValhalla and Elovestoread. How you all put up with me, I don't know! Off fanfiction, thank you so much to Sydney Lane and to AR. Your reviews on and off site kept me inspired.

Thank you to all who read my humble fanfic, and for your reviews, PMs, follows and emails. I had no idea that so many people would enjoy the 9th Century Kristr and Anna. It was humbling.

Finally, to those of you who are too nervous to put your thoughts up there - get your hand off the mouse and onto the keyboard! You never know what's in there until you try, and typing keeps one's fingers off the chocolate!

* * *

Chapter 18

Ellrik knew his actions and words were harsh this evening, but years of knowing the secret of his brother's torment at Helgena's hands had finally exploded into rage.

It was undeniable, Helgena had made him into a strong man, educated in Greek and Latin, disciplined in his actions. However, she had failed Kristr greatly by her abuse of the rod in the hall and in her bed. She may have encouraged him to be master of his world, but she had controlled his mind and his tastes for too long. That was until Anna came into his world, and he was overjoyed to know that his Helgena's hold on his brother was finally over.

Not taking his eyes off Helgena, who crouched in the corner radiating fury, he addressed his brother.

'Is Anna safe?'

'Ja, I have concealed her, and when we get these fosterlings – these children – under control and accounted for, I shall bring her back to the buildings. And you,' he stabbed the air viciously at Helgena 'may get down on your knees and beg Anna's forgiveness. You do not and will not have mine.' He turned and left, not looking backwards.

'We three can take care of the fosterlings,' Ellrik advised. 'Go to Anna.'

Kristr lifted a flaming torch from a sconce. There was no need for stealth now. Walking across the freshly turned earth for planting, he mused on the dissatisfaction he felt at MacHyde's death. He had wanted to watch him die slowly and painfully, to find out why he had cheated him in the first place.

* * *

Embarking onto the secluded boat, a soft smile crossed his face when he saw Anna cocooned in the sleeping sack. She was fast asleep, the knife curled in her hand. He crouched down and stroked her cheek, whispering her name, a little louder when she did not stir.

'Kristr,' she smiled in her sleep, coming around slowly.

'Ja, Sweetling. I am here.' He continued his small circular caress.

'You are my true love,' her whispers were clear, and music to his ears.

'And you are mine.' He never meant anything so much in his life. Shaking her very gently; she finally roused from her slumber.

Opening his sea chest he brought out his new grey embroidered tunic, and held it up. 'This may be –just- a little big for you, but it is a lot more suitable to the climate than what you have been dressed in.' He fingered the raised embroidery, tracing the outline of the rune. A chill ran down his spine as he thought of the previous days when he had come upon the finely worked piece, the care that she had taken in her work.

She could not stop the tears. 'Kristr, I thought I had lost you forever. They wanted to make me a bed slave! MacHyde wanted to lay with me. If that disgusting vile creature had touched me...' She wriggled frantically out of the sleeping sack and vomited over the edge of the boat. '

'Shhh, Sweetling.' He stroked her back and handed her a waterskin. 'He can never hurt you again.' Starting to carefully unravel the twists of her hair from the circlet, he dropped a kiss on her forehead. 'Consider this a battle scar. Your tresses may be shorter, but it does not distract from your beauty.'

'I suppose it will grow again.' She pulled at the ornate style herself, freeing her shorter brown curls. 'A small price to pay to be with you.' She smiled shyly, growing wider when she saw his mirrored reaction.

'Only one more object to remove, and you are again mine.' He worked the wires free around the ankle bells and threw them over the edge of boat, the gentle ringing stopping with the immediate splash of the water. Helgena had no more hold on his precious Anna. 'Mine.'

'Yours.' Her breathless words stirred within him. 'Make me yours.'

She did not feel the cold grey fingers of the dawn as Kristr dropped sweet kisses over her body, around her neck where she had been collared by Helgena. He cupped and suckled on her breasts, marvelling in their softness and warmth. With each tiny moan of pleasure as he licked and nipped down over her belly, he nuzzled between her slender thighs, feasting on the intoxicating nectar that guided his way. Sensing her reaching her peak, and slowing down his celebration of her body, he chuckled as she gave a playful scowl. Stopping to drink in the view of her lush curves and creamy skin, he knew he would never have his fill of her. Finally succumbing to her quiet pleas for release, he returned to his enjoyment of her sweet tender spot, as her voice became louder until she screamed his name in ecstasy.

Revelling in her cries of pleasure he claimed her honeyed entrance, the spasms of her womb guiding him in further. Locked in their lovers' embrace of the body, their eyes locked into each other's soul, bright blue into dark grey, but the passion was as raw and intense as a winter storm on the sea. The boat was their world; nothing else mattered. With a final thrust, they collapsed in unison, the two becoming one.

* * *

When they arrived back at the hall, Johan, Ellrik and Taylr had assembled the young men in Helgena's care.

'Where is she?' Kristr growled, searching the hall.

'Alone, bound in her bedchamber. It is still too good for the likes of her,' Ellrik snarled. Seeing Anna his face changed, to the normal goodnatured grin that he was known for. His actions over the previous night confirmed to Kristr that his brother would be a fair Jarl and strong leader, when the time came. 'Anna!' he hugged her and swung her around, her oversized tunic swirling around her tiny body. 'Besides my darling Catherine, I do not believe I have ever been so pleased to see a woman.'

'Nor I either.' Johan gave a small bow to Anna, and winked to Kristr, the happiness evident on his face. If Anna was not wed to Kristr by the end of four seasons, with a babe in her womb he would move to Abyssinia, and tolerate sand and heat for the rest of his days.

Settling in front of the hearth with the four men, Anna finally asked, 'Why did he hate you so?' She shivered as she remembered his lascivious stare, when the women were dressing her. 'He said you were brothers. I did not know he fostered with you.'

Kristr shook his head. 'Nei, we were not foster brothers, but he was my dearthair, my true brother, by blood. We shared a mother, but I did not know this until recently. His last words to me were Mother Thief. Grainne had believed her son dead before she came North with my father.'

Silence fell over the group as they thought of a mother told that her son was dead, and of a son who was told his mother abandoned him.

Johan interjected, 'When I met him in Dubh Linn, he was not aware that he was a brother to Kristr, although he knew that Grainne had left with Kerik.' He frowned, and glanced at his friend. 'Perhaps he hated you because Kerik Greysteinn was your sire.' It was time to tread carefully to save Anna's blushes. 'He knew Helgena; perhaps he was jealous of your, ah, friendship with her.'

'Well, my brothers, the key to that particular lock is not far away.' Taylr strood up and purposefully walked out of the hall.

Taking Anna's hand, Kristr kissed her palm tenderly. 'He is dead now, and she will be tried at the Allthing, but I have other plans to consider.' There was not even a desire to find the soaked ragged clothes of his enemy on the rocks. MacHyde was no more, and Kristr wanted no relics of his enemy's past to mar his future.

Pushing Helgena through the longhouse, Taylr forced her to a stop in front of Kristr. Making her kneel before him, Taylr held a firm grip on her thick blonde braids, forcing her head so that she had to look up. Boring down into her eyes unblinkingly, she finally capitulated.

'Well?' he demanded 'Perhaps you may share with us why MacHyde hated me so? Comply and the company of the Allthing may look favourably on you.'

Helgena knew she had nothing to lose, except her life. 'He was eaten up by jealousy of you.' She spat the words 'Jealous that your sire took his mother, jealous that you were fostered by me, jealous of your wealth, and finally when the fool worked it out, jealous that you were his blood brother, by a mother who he believed abandoned him.'

Kristr slumped on the bench. This man had wanted him dead for over ten summers. Kristr was nothing but a boy at the time, but looking into Helgena's ice blue eyes full of venom, it as clear how twisted a man or woman could become over envy, even to a child.

* * *

It was planned that Kristr would sail with Anna in the remaining boat to RathSteele, accompanied by four of Helgena's fosterlings, who would act as oarsmen. He had promised he would take her to see her father, and he would keep his word. Now that MacHyde was dead, the ransom demanded from him was void. There had been no quarrel with Raymond. His heart felt heavy when he thought how she would choose her homeland over him.

Ellrick, Taylr and Johan agreed to stay at Jarlshof, guarding Helgena and waiting for Kerik's ship. It would be less than a sennight before he arrived. The time would also permit Johan to talk with the fosterlings, and to help build the testimony against Helgena. The men and the women of the Allthing would decide her fate, but if she was merely banished to Vinland, the icy expanse to the very far North, she would consider herself fortunate.

Before the ship sailed out of the river, with its crew of six, Kristr, cupping his hands around his mouth, called to his brother, 'Ellrik, do not wed until I return! I wish to see my brother finally take a wife!' He hoped Kerik would now give his blessing. There would be much to celebrate on the Greysteinn steading. Kristr prayed he would be part of it.

* * *

Anna could barely contain her excitement on the three-day journey home. She blamed her churning stomach on the rolling waves and the joy of seeing her father.

As the boat sailed down the main lough, confusion crossed her face. Instead of a small committee to welcome the group, it looked like a war party, the rough throng looking for blood.

'It is the Viking sail, Sweetling.' Kristr tried to soothe her, 'When we get closer, they will recognise you and all will be well.' She crossed herself in silent prayer, and hoped he was right.

When the boat reached the water's edge, Anna tried to call out to the men assembled. She recognised her brother. 'Joseph! Emmett! Please, I beseech you! I am well and this man means me no harm. Let us disembark.'

As Joseph helped her off the boat, the men swarmed over the craft, pulling Kristr and the boys off the vessel. Anna screamed in rage as Emmett, Catherine's brother, hauled her off towards the rath as she watched Kristr helplessly. He did not fight his captors.

'Unhand me, Emmet!' She was breathless and her words were rasping through her aching throat. 'You don't know what you are doing!' She tried again to twist out of his grasp but he was resolute, only letting her go when they arrived at the simple replacement gates of the rath. Ignoring the state of disarray, she ran through the entrance, crying in joy when she saw her father.

'Papa!' she sobbed into his tunic as he held her close, kissing the crown of her head. 'I thought I should never see you again!'

Raymond could not speak. His daughter was in his arms; the daughter he thought was dead. Time flew back eighteen summers when he felt his joy and awe when Breda had handed him the tiny pink bundle, with a shock of brown hair, barely an hour old. 'Anna. My Anna.' He fought his emotions, 'I thought I had lost you forever.' He rubbed his fingers through her shoulder length hair. 'Did the Viking do this to you?'

'No, Papa. He saved me twice. From MacHyde and a marriage...,' Raymond winced in shame '... and from a half-troll who tried to make me a slave.' Their reunion was cut short when Kristr was led into the hall. Anna gasped in horror had been beaten around the face, his hands were tied and Joseph was yanking him forward by a rope about his neck. 'No!' she cried as she left her father's embrace and ran to her red-headed love. She would always love her father, but her love for Kristr was different, deeper. The unending love of a man and woman. Grabbing Joseph's dagger she started to gnaw at the ropes. 'This man is a good man, an honourable man, a man I..., I love with all my heart.'

Kristr's bruised eyes flickered slightly, and through bloody lips he murmured 'And I you, Sweetling.'

Joseph snorted in disgust, 'This Viking has addled one sister's mind, and who knows what has happened to the other.' Glaring at his prisoner, his eyes and expression black with hatred, he continued, 'Now that she probably carries his child, this Viking,' he could not call him by name, '...this Viking wants to leave her here.' He went to strike Kristr, but was intercepted by Anna, the display of her new knife skills evident. Joseph may have been closer to the truth than he cared to realise. She knew that her courses had not arrived in one and a half moons, and from what she had heard around the sewing circles and looms, this might mean something.

'Catherine is well, Joseph.' Anna's voice was low, the dagger still in her hand. 'She has found her true love. So should you.' Relief flooded through Joseph, as the black cloud of fate that had suffocated him for years finally dispersed. Catherine was happy. Now that their planned union was all but dissolved, he could make his own choice as Chieftain. As he studied the delicate features of his sister he saw life how she did; life may have thrown a lot at her in the past moon, but with her quiet determination she not only survived, she thrived.

* * *

'So, Kristr Greysteinn,' Raymond still was not convinced, 'Why does a Viking maurader want my precious daughter?' This man had kidnapped his daughter from his own lands, and spirited her away. His enemy had come and stolen everything of value and almost razed the rath to the ground, intent on destroying the clan and people of RathSteele and laying claim to his daughter as if she were livestock.

'My Chieftain.' It was the closest term of respect that Kristr could translate. 'I do not regret taking your daughter.' Raymond unsheathed his dagger. 'I do not regret preventing a marriage to the underhand MacHyde, I do not regret welcoming her into my family in the north. I do not regret falling in love with her.' He stopped. 'But I deeply deeply regret the hurt that I caused her by not letting her say goodbye to you, and I regret that I failed to protect her from evil.' He took a deep breath. 'I do not deserve her, but I would like to make her my bride.'

'You expect me to pay a king's ransom for my daughter and then give her to you in marriage? I will never make a decision for my child again!'

'There is no ransom now. The demand died with MacHyde.' Kristr now knew how Anna felt when her stomach churned. His own belly lurched with nervous energy as he considered his situation. He did not wish to barter a bride-price for a woman so perfect, so pure of heart, like she were a prize milk cow. He looked Raymond straight in the eye. 'MacHyde owed me silver. There is no amount of precious metal in this world that I would hold back to have the privilege of making your daughter my wife, my partner. But only if she is willing.'

Anna flew into the hall, with a squeal of delight worthy of Maria. 'Papa, please grant his request.' She would miss Donegal, but it was possible to travel over the seas, especially in the long days of summer.

'In return for letting me wed your daughter, I will provide all that you need to repair your home, to rebuild your boats and to prepare your land for the growing season.' I have four young men currently at my disposal who need to learn some farming skills, and some of the Gaelic language.' Kristr knew his plans. Land was scarce in the North and many men were making their way to this mild, wet Island. To prepare them as settlers, not invaders, could only smooth the change that were coming, and prevent bloodshed from feuds.

Raymond sat back in his chair. Anna looked so much like, her mother. He remembered the same look on Breda's face as she begged Niall, her own father to permit her to wed the young man from RathSteele.

'Kristr Greysteinn, do you promise to protect my daughter with all your heart?'

'Chieftain, I give you my word.'

'Anna of Rathsteele, do you promise to be an honourable wife, but also promise to come back to me if you are unhappy?' He may allow Kristr to marry Anna, but he would never give her away.

'Papa, I do.'

Straightening his back, and looking to Joseph, whose face had finally softened, he said, 'I agree to this union.'

* * *

One full moon later, the simple service in St Aonghus' church ended with the joyous pealing of bells. The couple left the church to the well wishes of those who lived inside and outside the rath. Blessings for a long marriage and healthy babes intermingled with some of the more raucous intentions of a man and woman joining as husband and wife.

As a bride, she wore a deep red kirtle, as her mother had, on the cool Summer day nineteen years previous. Her linen cream underdress peeped through the wide bell sleeves, and her silver girdle, a bride-gift from Kristr, showed off her slim waist and curved hips. Her hair was decorated with rare tiny scarlet flowers that only blossomed once every three summers, for beauty, and leaves of oak for fertility. Kristr stood proudly beside her, his face healed and the fine embroidered tunic skimming over every toned muscle in his chest.

Carrying his wife over the threshold of the hall to celebrate with a feast, a fine Norse tradition, he stopped and asked her if she felt well. 'Yes, my love. I have some news for you of my unwell stomach.' She blushed as he looked to her abdomen and arched an eyebrow. With her shy nod, he gave a whoop of delight, planted a long loving kiss on her lips, and thanked every god in the known world, be they Christian, Norse, Celtic, Greek, Roman or Saracen, that through silver, Steele had been brought into his world.

THANKS!

* * *

Biblography & Web

vikinganswerlady .com

hurstwic .org

Chronicle of Celtic Folk Customs, Brian Day

The Tain, translated by Thomas Kinsella

Over Nine Waves, Marie Heaney

Celtic Mythology, Proinsas MacCana


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